When I was growing up, my church in Midland, Texas went through a building campaign of its own. As a 15-year-old in the youth group, I was inspired to play a part in the building process and submitted my own contribution pledge outside of what my mom and dad had pledged to give. It wasn’t much, maybe a few dollars a week. But over the span of a year, those few dollars would add up. Every week when I put my few dollars in the collection plate, I was glad to be giving. I didn’t realize, however, that I needed to put those few dollars in an envelope and mark it for the building fund with my name on it so they could track my progress.
At the end of the building project, my dad got a notice in the mail that my commitment amount still needed to be paid. When he asked me about it, I told him I had paid it slowly over the last year by putting cash into the collection plate. In that moment, my dad could have gotten frustrated with me, or he could have been disappointed that I didn’t do it correctly. Instead, he said he was proud of me for contributing and then paid the amount I owed himself.
I didn’t realize then how much my earthly father reflected the love of my Heavenly Father. I had a debt that I was responsible for, and my dad paid it for me. I also didn’t realize how profoundly my dad’s actions would stick with me years later. It wasn’t until becoming a mother myself that I really could appreciate how much my dad did for me time and time again. The same is infinitely true of my Heavenly Father. If I could count all the times God forgave my debts, my sins towards Him and others, it would be impossible. The chasm between us would have been impassable if not for what Christ did on the cross, the ultimate cost for our debts.