God: You feel embarrassed. If I correct you, you imagine a little red pen making a little red checkmark beside whatever you said, whatever you thought, whatever you believed, with an associated “-1”, “-2”, or whatever other value deducting points from your total grade.
The reality is, in school, that was the method. And it made sense there: they wanted a method to measure progress. And accuracy in understanding is one way to measure.
But I don’t measure progress that way.
I know you have accepted my payment for your sin. But you have not accepted my grace for your understanding. You still feel embarrassed for error. Why should you be embarrassed when the creator of the universe corrects?
Do you know how I measure progress?
…I don’t.
Joshua: You don’t? Then how can you trust me?
God: (starts laughing) Joshua, I want you to listen very closely. I make sure you are prepared. But my goal isn’t to give you a grade—it’s to get you ready.
In a test, your school system made the goal to get a good grade.
In our walk together, my teaching is here to get you ready. You don’t necessarily know what for. You don’t necessarily know how to measure. But I weigh the heart.
In the school system, a jerk may pass. In mine, a person with no knowledge but much faith will far surpass someone who condescends others and grasps great understanding. The school system does not measure love, but without love, you are nothing.
You have love. It’s my love working in you. The same is true for all my children.
My measurement is not human measurement. When I correct you, that is not disqualification. Correction in your school meant disqualification. A little—you were okay. A lot—you might not pass the grade.
Correction proves you are my son. Do you know what qualifies you? My work. Do you know what often accompanies my work? Correction. Not to shame. To sharpen.
It is much more fun to use a computer when you understand how it works. It is much more fun to live life when you have healthy mindsets.
(My phone rings for a text message; I check it, reply that it’s a wrong number, and get a popup notification that it’s likely spam)
God: …What did you just get distracted by?
Joshua: My phone had just gone off. Turns out it was a spam text, asking “What time will you arrive?” …and now I’m realizing that was probably something you let happen to make a point right now.
God: (nods) You will often have spam messages, saying “What time will you arrive?” “When will you mature?” “Will you ever graduate?”
They are spam. I never ask my children “When will you heal?” “When will you become qualified?” I may ask when we can start. But I never place the expectation on you that you should be able to walk forward alone.
The reality is, I prepare you. So someone else started their ministry before you did. What is that to you? You, follow me.
This isn’t meant to be a scary trail. “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me”. To be clear: you are not bad if my rod and staff don’t comfort you. That is a sign you need comfort. When you start seeing the comfort in my correction, it will stop being scary.
You feel bad admitting you needed my correction. This is because you assume other Christians have it more together.
What is that to you? You, follow me.
Grades let you compare your progress with other students. But if everyone’s walk is different, what is that to you?
Don’t take comfort in the thought that maybe you’re actually farther ahead than other believers. That would make pride your comforter, instead of me.
Correction isn’t putting you down. Correction is just part of your process.
Correction isn’t a bad grade. Correction is proof you’re my son.
If you ever receive my correction, and don’t feel love, tell me. I won’t withdraw correction, but that is a sign healing still needs to happen. I won’t gaslight you into thinking correction wasn’t actually correcting—it most certainly was! When my rod and my staff don’t comfort you, it is because you are used to associating the rod and staff with something else.
What do you associate the rod and staff with?
Joshua: …Well, I think of it being “you dumb sheep, come back this way!”
God: (shaking his head) Why is it paired with insults?
Joshua: Well… I was told grades help us measure intelligence. A higher grade means I’m smart. I always got A’s—well—
God: Stop right there. Why does that matter?
Joshua: …Kids who had bad grades went to the Principal’s office. They weren’t let out to play at recess. Getting bad grades, getting a red card, meant that I would be taken away from my friends.
God: Here we are. You view the rod and staff as separation. What did I do with the lost sheep?
Joshua: …You brought it back into the fold.
God: (nods) I didn’t have a special “Sheep Separation Corner” for all the lost sheep. If anything, I gave them special attention. Some correction is private, sure. But that is to protect you, not to isolate you.
You saw some of the other kids just vanish. That doesn’t mean the school was trying to destroy their friendships—as best they knew how, they were trying to help.
Correction isn’t separation. Shame separates. I free you from shame. I correct. Correction will help you have closer friendships—it won’t remove them. Unhealthy friendships will be addressed, but correction does not destroy healthy friendships.
Correction isn’t separation. I am not looking to push you out from the fold. No sheep gets “baaad grades” and gets shoved out.
Your phone rang again. Is it the spam?
(I look)
Joshua: Humorously enough, I got a response to the spam message at the exact same moment as I got a legitimate work message that will let me get paid.
God: Spam will often come at the same time as healthy correction.
That spam will attempt to make my healing process into your justification. But you were already justified.
Correction isn’t separation. Healthy correction builds connection.