My husband and I took our kids on a hike not too long ago, and before we hit the trail, we warned both of our sons to stay on the path at all times. The woods were filled with poison ivy, and one of my sons is quite the explorer. (Actually, he’s a “runner”—you know, the kid who sprints across a parking lot without ever checking for cars.) About an hour into our hike and an hour away from the trailhead, my young runner strayed from the path to grab a large stick from what appeared to be a small ditch. As he reached for the stick, in went his foot, and he sank up to his knee in stiff, wet Missouri clay. My husband and I joined forces to pull him out, but his foot came up out of the mud without the shoe. We pulled the shoe out with the stick (the one that was so alluring in the first place), and my son had to bear the natural consequences of walking with a clay-encrusted leg all the way back to the trailhead.
Sin is deceitful like that. While most of us are aware of the obvious danger to our souls from things like pornography or theft, we’re not always as conscientious or vigilant about the harm caused by envy and pride or anger and resentment. And even with the more obvious or blatant areas of sin, we’re not always inclined to say “no.” We’re not impervious to sin’s deceit, and even the smallest steps away from the path of righteousness can bring about a lot of heartache and painful consequences.
In our lack of omniscience, it is for our spiritual safety and personal holiness that we ask God to show us our sins, to “see if there be any grievous way” in us (see Ps. 139:24). We need to keep a right view of who God is—holy and glorious and mighty and kind—but our sin can block the light of His glory from our eyes. And sometimes we don’t even know it. So, we pray like David. We ask God to reveal our sin and help us to burn it to the ground. We plead for His help and we accept His means of correction.
God isn’t wishing us luck on our sanctification journey. He is with us every step of the way. He has provided what we need to stay on His path of righteousness.[1] He has given us His Word to guide us, His church to protect, correct, and comfort us, and His Spirit to help us understand Scripture and obey it. When you pray for God to help you see and fight your sin, you must use the weapons He has provided.
We must see God’s love as corrective not permissive. We must also see His correction as love, not as punishment.

I used to think that God was mad at me when I sinned and happy with me when I didn’t. I gauged His affections by my actions, attributing to Him the up-and-down roller coaster of emotions like any wishy-washy human who is easily peeved and put out. But God is not like us. And He is not manipulated by my good or bad actions. God is constant in His love and faithful in His deeds. He is ever steady. If He disciplines us to eradicate sin in our lives, it isn’t because He’s mad at us. On the contrary, it’s because He loves us. Discipline isn’t punitive if you have been saved through faith in Jesus. Paul says in Romans 8 that there is “no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). This is a critical point of our theology of salvation. If Jesus swallowed all of God’s wrath at the cross, then there is no more punishment for you to bear in addition to that. No penance. No making it up to God. No serving out of debt, for your record of debt has been nailed to the cross and canceled.[2]
Discipline, on the other hand, is something God does to help us live far from sin. Keeping our lives unstained by the world leads to greater joy and perseverance in Christ. God knows what we need. He knows what tempts us. He knows all the little and big areas in our lives that squelch and smother our obedience to Him. So He disciplines us to bring us closer. He uses the sorrows and trials of this life to purify our faith into something strong and true.
If He hated you, He would not bother refining your faith.
The author of Hebrews talks about the Lord’s discipline as part of our sanctification process. But it’s done from the point of view of God as our Father. “He disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness,” the author says (Heb. 12:10). “God is treating you as sons” (Heb. 12:7). But it isn’t that picture of an angry, grumpy father. No, this is a good Father we’re talking about. This is a compassionate Father. This is a Father who runs to greet the prodigal son and clothes his filth with a clean robe of righteousness.
Quoting Proverbs 3, the author of Hebrews urges us not to be weary or discouraged when the Lord disciplines us. Rather—view it as love. Proverbs 3 says that “the Lord reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights” (Prov. 3:12).[3] God delights in His children, so He disciplines them to protect them from further sin and to help them grow in holiness. Unlike our imperfect parenting where we snip and berate our kids for muddy shoes and deliberate disobedience, God corrects from a place of perfect love. Without snippiness or mean-spiritedness or selfishness. Regardless of how golden or bleak our experience with earthly parents, we must avoid embedding human flaws into God’s parenting of our souls. He is the perfect Father who disciplines from perfect love.
If God is revealing areas of sin in your life as you have prayed for Him to do—and if you feel crushed by the weight of it—do not run from God. Do not accuse Him of not loving you for the misery you feel under the spotlight of correction. Do not attribute to Him what you yourself tend to do in anger. Rather, accept His discipline. Receive the rebukes of Scripture and cherish the correction of faithful church members and pastors. View discipline as God loving you enough to pluck you from the mud and setting you on the path again by His side. He is keeping you.
Don’t resist His discipline. But don’t feel condemned by it either.
Regardless of how golden or bleak our experience with earthly parents, we must avoid embedding human flaws into God’s parenting of our souls. He is the perfect Father who disciplines from perfect love. Share on X
Author’s Note: This is an adapted excerpt from my new book, Known & Loved, available wherever you buy books.

[1] 2 Peter 1:3-11
[2] Colossians 2:14
[3] I must credit my husband, William, for connecting this idea of delight and discipline in his sermon on Proverbs 3:1–12, titled “Wisdom Is Obedience,” preached at Grace Bible Fellowship on August 11, 2024.
Trail Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash
Known and Loved photo courtesy of Hope Francis at Moody Publishers
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and is the mother of two sons. She and her husband serve at Grace Bible Fellowship in Sikeston, Missouri where they have served for over twenty years. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence, Everyday Faithfulness, Memorizing Scripture, and Known & Loved. Connect with her on Instagram and Facebook, or sign up for her monthly newsletter.
