Matthew 26:28, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.

I stood with one hand clutching my daughter, the other hand clutching the items I was needing to purchase. The store was getting busy and the line behind me began to grow with individuals just like myself- attempting to be patient while completing a task.

As the cashier finished swiping my items under the blaring red light of the machine, I was rummaging through the vortex that is my purse. Loose receipts, loose change, loose crackers all swimming in the dark pit that is my handbag. I made a mental note to clean out my handbag at my earliest convenience.

Hand swipe to the right; swiped to the left- no much needed wallet to be found. I realized that I had left my wallet behind when I went scurrying out the door. In my mind I could visually see my wallet sitting on my desk at home. Humorous since I had made a mental note to remember to put my wallet back into my purse in order to prevent this very scenario.

Mental note: cease making mental notes.

I apologized to the cashier and darted out of the store knowing I would have to return at a later time. As I was driving home, a new picture was brought forth in my wandering mind. A number of years ago a woman whom I greatly admire shared with me a most solid truth: whenever I am tempted to believe the lie that I am not a child of God, I must always remember the covenant that I hold in my possession.

In my mind, I have painted the picture that in my back pocket there exists a folded contract of neatly bound papers. Though slightly battered, creased, and oily from my smudged fingerprints, they are the most precious pieces of paper I have- or will ever hold- in my possession. It is the covenant I have with my Heavenly Father. Across the bottom of the last page it is signed with Christ’s blood.

These are my freedom papers.

I simply cannot image the sorrow, weeping, and pleading I would endure if I were to stand at the gates of heaven and this precious covenant of mine was not in my possession. I simply cannot imagine standing at the gates of heaven and telling The Lord of Lords to, “Hold on, I must have misplaced them. I thought they were here. Oh, no, sorry… I left them behind in my past life and never thought to put them where the rightly belonged.”

Day by day, moment by messy moment, I must remember that these papers are my promise for everlasting life. I must remember to honour them and clutch them tightly. For on the days when I am pestered by that pesky little fly, I can withdraw them, shake them in his face and proudly proclaim, “Shoo fly, don’t bother me.”

Father, there does not exist a word to show how very grateful I am for your precious covenant, but grateful is what I am. May we always remember what you have done, and how important it is that we don’t misplace our freedom. Amen.

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