Confession and repentance are the most demanding aspects of the Christian life, where we stand fully exposed before the holiness of God, much like Eustace in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when he is painfully freed from his dragon scales by Aslan. This image captures something of our own journey: we too need God’s help to strip away our sins, layer by painful layer, as His grace works to free us. Repentance is like a skilled surgeon’s scalpel, cutting deep. It’s painful, yet it is the necessary path to our healing.

In these moments, the most meaningful thing we can do is echo David’s prayer:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” - Psalm 139:23-24

We invite God to reveal the shadows within, the quiet sins that lurk in our hearts. And as we ask Him to show us these hidden faults, we also seek His strength to turn away from them, to be restored, and to walk again in His light.

Each week, we pass through valleys of sin and struggle—moments when our faith falters, our convictions weaken, and our love cools. Confession then acts as a divine X-ray, letting the light of God’s Word expose the hidden darkness within our souls. These sins—like toxins in our bloodstream—quietly drain us of joy, peace, and passion for the things of God. This is why we must confront and release them.

Let’s consider one commandment that often escapes close examination: “You shall not steal.” At first, this commandment might seem simple, something most of us feel confident we haven’t broken. We might imagine theft as the domain of masked burglars, opportunistic looters, or shadowy figures in the night. But in God’s eyes, theft has a broader meaning. It is not limited to material goods or bold acts of wrongdoing. It is a condition of the heart, a pattern that quietly seeps into even our closest relationships, our promises, and our connection to God Himself.

In God’s eyes, promises and commitments are sacred; they bind us not only to Him but to others. Take marriage, for instance—a covenant and lifelong promise. Husbands, when you pledged to “love your wife as Christ loves the Church,”every time you fall short of that standard, you’ve withheld what is owed to her in love, honor, and devotion. You’ve robbed her of the care you promised. And wives, when you pledged to respect and support your husbands, each harsh word or unkept promise steals the respect and love you vowed to give. Imagine if we fully honored these promises—how much stronger our marriages could be if we stopped withholding what we owe to each other.

This call to integrity reaches beyond marriage and applies to every area of life where we’ve made commitments. In the book of Malachi, God challenges His people, saying they have “robbed” Him by withholding tithes and offerings. While this certainly includes financial giving, it reaches further. God entrusts us with our time, our talents, our devotion, our very lives. And when we hold back, offering Him only leftovers, we are robbing Him. If our lives belong entirely to Christ, holding anything back—whether time, resources, or attention—is a kind of theft, a failure to give what is due.

The commandment against stealing also applies to our role as Christians in society. As followers of Christ, we are His ambassadors in a world that ultimately belongs to Him. Yet, how often do we stay silent about our faith out of fear of offending others? Imagine a doctor who, out of a desire to avoid upsetting his patient, withholds a diagnosis of a life-threatening illness. This isn’t love; it’s negligence. In the same way, our silence about the hope and truth we have in Christ is not kindness but a form of theft, robbing the world of the message that could bring them life.

These varied commitments—to our families, to God, to our fellow believers, and to the watching world—reveal just how far-reaching “You shall not steal” truly is. If we promise to work diligently but waste hours in distraction, we are withholding what we have agreed to give. If we pledge loyalty to a friend but betray their trust, we rob them of the faithfulness they are owed. And if we offer only half-hearted devotion to God while calling ourselves His followers, we rob Him of the wholehearted worship He deserves.

So, let us search our hearts and examine our lives for any form of theft, whether it’s hidden in our marriages, lurking in our work habits, or residing in our attitudes toward God. Where have we withheld love? Where have we stolen time or attention? Where have we broken promises? Let us bring these failures to the foot of the cross, where Christ offers His grace and forgiveness. Today, let us allow the Spirit to expose what is unworthy, to remove what is harmful, and to lead us into a life of greater faithfulness, integrity, and devotion. For only by surrendering everything can we live fully in the abundance of life He’s called us to—a life free from theft, rooted in true generosity, and rich in the fullness of faith.