Karina Pellegrini
At the age of 18, I, like any other young adult, was ready to take on the world. I had planned on college, and after that a career. I had aspirations that ranged from teaching to a becoming a deaconess; I really just wanted to serve the Lord in all of my work. I vividly remember my parents hugging me while I proudly held up stacks of acceptance letters to colleges around the country. I had planned on moving out. I wanted a taste of the independence that my friends all seemed to have. My laptop sat open, Pinterest boards filled up with apartment renovation ideas and dorm room decorations. I had it all figured out. But there was a life that my parents didn’t know about: a sinful, darker and deceptive life. What I hadn’t planned on was being caught. The last thing on my mind was parenthood.
I can’t think of a gentle way to describe the shock that goes through the mind of a young woman when she discovers she’s pregnant. For me, it was a mixture of fear and shame and guilt; those feelings were dramatically increased when I realized that at some point, everyone around me would see my sin. The secret was out. I couldn’t continue to lie to everyone around me. People from all parts of my life would soon know what I had done. And I would have to answer for those prying and sin-exposing questions for the rest of my life. Unlike every other situation where I was caught doing something wrong as a teen, this was something I couldn’t escape from or talk my way out of.
I remember in particular, as I sat in shock and stared at that blue plus sign, I felt so alone, and sinful beyond repair. I feared rejection and abandonment. I wondered if there could be redemption for my soul. In shame and humility, I reluctantly confided in my dad. The sinful lies I had worked so hard to cover up were finally being exposed. I knew I deserved nothing but punishment and rebuke for my actions. Yet, even through all of this, my father’s words of wisdom and grace cut through the overpowering sense of helplessness.
He said, “Your God is with you. Even in your sin, He loves you. Your remorse and fear indicate His law is at work in your heart and His forgiveness is immediate. In Christ, forgiveness is yours, freely given. God’s love for you in Christ is timeless. He will never abandon or forsake you, no matter what you do to deny His will for you. Christ made the sacrifice for your sin. You are washed clean by His blood and right now, right here, you are white as snow. You are sinless. You are renewed and reborn. So let’s focus on tomorrow, the new you in Christ redeemed by his abundant grace.”
So what about now? What about today, now that I am a single mom, but one redeemed and renewed by Christ’s love and forgiveness? Well, life is harder–much harder than I could have ever imagined when I shortsightedly planned my college and career while living two distinctly different lives. I’m now often uncomfortable in social situations, scared of the judging eyes and the possibility of unwanted comments from people who raise their eyebrows at me. I experience emotions I didn’t know were possible to feel on a daily basis. I feel them with an intensity that leaves me feeling hollowed out. Sinful regret comes in waves everyday when I encounter people and things that remind me of my sin. My body is no longer the body of a young teenager. It has been ravaged by pregnancy. My mind does not possess the carefree attitude or innocence it once held. I am riddled with anxiety, depression, and guilt. Along with this, I have lost the perspective of self. The first thought when I wake and the last thought when I sleep is of my son: his safety, his wellbeing, and my powerful love for him. Some days he can remind me of my past, but he will always remain a constant reminder of God’s grace, mercy, and forgiveness in my life.
I speak from experience when I say that being a single teen mother is not easy. But through an unplanned pregnancy and motherhood, the Lord has shown me that even my best attempts to condemn myself are futile. He takes my sin and never stops blessing me. He wraps me in Christ’s forgiveness and love, in absolution and grace that I cannot escape. In the middle of my sin, guilt, and shame, my God, who is faithful to His baptismal promises, guided me to repentance and showered me with countless blessings–gifts that are freely given to my parched soul. From my sin burst forth a flood of grace, the biggest blessing in my life. Through God’s only Son, I was given my son.
Karina Pellegrini is a member at Messiah Lutheran Church in Marysville, Washington.
When Jesus encountered a Roman Centurion with a sick servant, we learn a bit about authority. “For I too am a man under authority,” says the Centurion, “with soldiers under me. And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes, and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes, and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it” (Matthew 8:9). When he speaks, things get done. He recognizes this same authority in Jesus. “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, but only say the word, and my servant will be healed” (Matthew 8:8).
I admit it. I was born into a Cubs family. At least four generations of them. My great-grandfather was eight-years-old when they won their last World Series. And while my sister is a diehard Cubs fan, my affiliation has been looser. They are “my” team, but I can’t quote you statistics, and many years I would be hard pressed to tell you very many names of players. I attend about a game a year, and enjoy the atmosphere, but don’t often have the game on TV or radio. I guess I’m kind of a “Chreaster” baseball fan; fairly inactive.
Forgiveness in Christ is the call of the church. After the resurrection, Jesus tells the church to preach “repentance and forgiveness of sins” (Luke 24) and “if you forgive them they are forgiven” (John 20). This call is defined as the “Office of the Keys” which Christ has given to the church-the special authority to forgive sinners like you and me.
I wasn’t raised in the church. Sure, I went to Vacation Bible School a couple times when I was little; my parents drug me to a few Easter Sunday services and a couple Christmas Eve services at the local Methodist Church (but we weren’t even Methodist; that’s just where most of the people in town went). Twice I went to the local Church of Christ to impress a girlfriend. But I wasn’t raised in the church.
On October 1, we witnessed a tragedy that cut us all to the very core. A young man walked into a community college in Roseburg, Oregon and shot and killed nine students and wounding many others. He walked into one of the classrooms on the campus and ordered all the students there to get on the floor. He asked them to stand up and proceeded to ask them if they were Christian. If their answer was yes, he shot and killed them immediately.
I am not entirely comfortable in unfamiliar situations or in situations where I don’t know exactly what is going to happen.
“How was worship?” It’s a question that sounds fairly innocent. Most of us have probably asked our friends this question on a Sunday afternoon. We ask, “How was church,” sort of like we ask, “How was your day?” We want to know what happened. We want to know what they think. What songs did the musicians play? Was the sermon good? How many people were there? How did the service make you feel? Did the pastor that you like preach? Were the hymns easy to sing? Was it “authentic”? Did you connect with it? These are all genuine questions, but they bring up two problems with the way we view worship. What happens in church isn’t about your actions, and it isn’t a surprise. It’s unbelievable, but it isn’t a surprise.
You know it by many names-Communion, the Breaking of the Bread, the Last Supper, the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, the Sacrament of the Altar-but it has a singular gift: forgiveness of sins. And where this forgiveness of sins is eaten and swallowed so also death is buried. This life meal has sprung you unto eternity with its immortal yet visible cook, Jesus the embodied One, for broken bodies.
