In my house I have this beautiful white tiled kitchen floor and entry way. It really is nice tile. And.... I hate it. I don't mean to sound ungrateful but I really do hate it. I'd almost rather have a dirt floor...almost. It probably wouldn't be that bad if I didn't have three messy children. Counting myself that makes four messy eaters. Green peas show up really well on a white tile floor along with everything else including red jello. I'm not much for cleaning either. I don't like filth but I'm very comfortable with a messy house.
Anyway back to the tile. I'm talking to all those Mary's out there who, hopefully like me, rarely mop but when you do you mop hard core. If I'm going to do it, I do it right. (Momma would be so proud!) I'm not talking about just swiffering here and there either. I mean hands and knees scrubbing not moving on until you get every last squished, dried, cemented down piece of food off.
Once my floor is cleaned I always have this great feeling of accomplishment. Because of all the work that it takes to get a sparkling white tile floor, I try to go as long as possible maintaining it. On average that lasts until whatever meal comes next. There's usually always an outburst of frustration towards myself or my kids when one of us inevitably spills or drops something on it. Anyone know what I'm talking about?
Well if you read my previous post and like me, you let go of a lot of junk you probably feel fresh and clean. You've jumped into hyper space with a clean slate. Maybe you are like me in the fact that you feel a great need or pressure to maintain that shiny new soul. In some ways this is very commendable. It's beautiful walking with the Lord with clean hands and a pure heart. Often I cry out "raise up a standard for Your people, Lord. Lead us to a place of wholeness and righteousness. Make us holy as You are holy." Mmmm so good.
This morning though, I felt like I had just dropped a pot of black coffee on my nice clean floor or a jar of spaghetti sauce (no I don't make my sauce from scratch) or a bowl of cereal and milk (hate that!). With great disappointment there appeared a great black stain of sin on my heart.
How does that happen? You want so much to do right. To be right. To live right. "Oh Lord, I just want You more! Draw me closer.....oh wait can we meet later? My favorite show is on...." Anyone with me?
I absolutely do not want to belittle the sin that is always there trying to penetrate our hearts. My point is, spilled milk happens. This life is a journey. We have a goal. There is a prize. All we can do is lean into the Father. Trust Him. And then there's faith. My faith lifts the weight of pain and mistakes. It lifts deep dark clouds of worthlessness and selfish pride. My faith is my belief in truth that God above loves me and you, and gave us freedom, gave us life to walk in love through Jesus. When I cry out for forgiveness He moves on my heart and cleanses me of all unrighteousness. I don't have to be bound in shame. He is setting me free.
The path of the righteous is one that grows brighter and brighter like the steady light of the sun until noon day. He sweeps us away and wipes us clean. A majic eraser works wonders on my white floor and the blood of Christs washes away all of our sin. Jesus wins. HE did all the work at the cross. We don't have to do anything to make ourselves clean except run to Him.
Do not let condemnation keep you from turning to Him. We aren't worthy, we never were, but He always is and His love never quits.