As a writer, I love old typewriters, and I have an antique one on display in my office.
When my grandchildren were small, I gave them instructions not to play with it. I know how excited and careless playful children can be, and I was afraid they might damage it.
But I will never forget the day when my four-year-old grandson stood next to the typewriter, looked me in the eye, and said, "Grammy, sometimes my hand just moves over there and plays with that typewriter."
I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't help but smile when I told him he would have to control his little hand. His four-year-old confession was an excellent illustration of the excuses we humans use to justify our sins.
He didn't really admit fault. It was his hand that was the problem, not his heart.
We humans are great at blame-shifting, excusing, sidestepping, and redefining our sins. We see it in culture when people deny the obvious design in creation, taking pride in harmful behavior. And, if we're honest, we sometimes see it in ourselves.
1 John 1:9-10 tells us that whenever we excuse or redefine sin, we're calling God a liar—a sober warning.
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If you'd like to read some other lessons my grandchildren have taught me, see "Grammy, I Don't Love You Anymore" and Have You Folded Any Socks Today?