“Send me the Bill!” said my Dad. Well, I am getting ahead of myself. I was in the 4th grade, my least favorite of my elementary school grades. I had a teacher that thought much too highly of herself and often at the expense of embarrassing her students. I was on the receiving end of that on two very distinct occasions that I can remember, once of which I want to talk about now.
I had gotten moved from one side of the class room to the other. I wasn’t very disturbed by that because the desk I was recipient of had a large ‘B’ inscribed on its surface. I thought I was now in a desk with my monogram, but it needed some color. I began to color it red with an ink pen. Suddenly I had that ominous feeling that someone was staring over my shoulder. Sheepishly I looked, and to my great chagrin, there SHE was.
She called all of the class to attention as she scolded me for defacing school property. She began to carry on about the last student to do something like that having been expelled for the remainder of the school year. “You must go home and tell your parents what a ‘bad” boy you have been.” Well, if it was as bad as she was saying, I wasn’t going to be the bearer of that news.
Every morning she would ask me in front of the class, “Did you tell your parents?” “No Ma’am,” I would say.Then another lecture on how bad I was and one more chance to inform my parents of how horrible their son was. After what seemed like weeks the morning came that I had grown weary of the constant embarrassment. My Mom and Dad were getting dressed in their room when I slowly approached my Dad. He wasn’t always this skilled, but on this morning he sat down and placed me on my lap. I began to cry and he held me tight. Finally I got it all out. He said, “Today when you get to school, tell her to send me the bill.”
When I got to school I lingered in the hall until the second bell rang and everyone else was in their seat. I was trying very hard to suppress the smile as I walked in. She thought she had me. I was coming in with all eyes on me. She said, “Did you tell them?” “Yes ma’am” I replied. “Send him the bill.” It was like she was a giant hot air balloon that was suddenly burst. It was the end of it.
So what is my point. You and I have an accuser in the person of the devil. He loves whispering those messages in our ear that tell us how bad we have been. He loves to continually remind us of our sins and guilt. But when we are believers, Jesus already paid the bill. I know that sounds a little different. But we can deflate his tenacity of accusation by confessing our sin and appropriating God’s forgiveness. Then, as they say, when satan reminds us of our past, we just point out his future. It really is “Paid in full”.