The mess I've made
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(Warning: this post may involve some discussion of the stomach bug we had this week. If you'd like to avoid vomit talk, move on.)
I love what parenting teaches me about God.
Flashback to last week, Monday morning. Our little guy started crying for me to come get him, so I opened the door to his room, which was still dark because we have great curtains in there to block the sun. So he could adjust his eyes to the light gradually, I didn't flip the light on. I usually pick him up, flip on the lamp by the changing table, and let him get used to the light.
I might not be so kind in the future.
This particular morning I noticed two things as I was halfway between the door and the crib: 1) Something stunk. and 2) Something was squishy under my feet.
Back to door. Flip the switch. Cue scene from The Exorcist after the chick's head has spun.
Oh, the vomit. With a smiling, bouncy(, smelly) boy standing in the middle of it.
I'm the momma, so I couldn't just walk out and let someone else deal with it. I had to figure out what to clean first. Everything - the carpet, the wall, the crib, the bedding, the curtains, the boy, his clothes - needed to be washed.
Why do I tell you this? It's not just to make you feel a little ill. (By the way, before I came to college in NC, I didn't know that "ill" could also mean annoyed or irritated. I was so confused when friends talked about being ill about something.)
I tell you this because it made me think of myself. I can get icky in my sin so that not only am I covered in it, but I have made a mess all around myself.
Just as I did with our little guy, God cleans me up. This part of theology most Americans agree with. "God loves you," emblazoned on bumper stickers, usually isn't considered to be an offensive statement. I love my little man, so I cleaned Him up. God loves me, so He washes me with the blood of Jesus to make me white as snow.
But, praise Him, He doesn't stop there. He's not okay with cleaning me up and then putting me back in my mess. That's where the Gospel starts to offend those who want God on their own terms. Sure, he can clean me up when I seek that, but I don't want Him to mess with my life. Through repentance and forgiveness and sweet, sweet grace, He restores my mess too.
It wouldn't have been okay for me to clean Robbie up and then put him back in that crib. It's not okay for me to seek forgiveness and then run back to my mess. God has redeemed me for more than that.
I love what parenting teaches me about God.
Flashback to last week, Monday morning. Our little guy started crying for me to come get him, so I opened the door to his room, which was still dark because we have great curtains in there to block the sun. So he could adjust his eyes to the light gradually, I didn't flip the light on. I usually pick him up, flip on the lamp by the changing table, and let him get used to the light.
I might not be so kind in the future.
This particular morning I noticed two things as I was halfway between the door and the crib: 1) Something stunk. and 2) Something was squishy under my feet.
Back to door. Flip the switch. Cue scene from The Exorcist after the chick's head has spun.
Oh, the vomit. With a smiling, bouncy(, smelly) boy standing in the middle of it.
I'm the momma, so I couldn't just walk out and let someone else deal with it. I had to figure out what to clean first. Everything - the carpet, the wall, the crib, the bedding, the curtains, the boy, his clothes - needed to be washed.
Why do I tell you this? It's not just to make you feel a little ill. (By the way, before I came to college in NC, I didn't know that "ill" could also mean annoyed or irritated. I was so confused when friends talked about being ill about something.)
I tell you this because it made me think of myself. I can get icky in my sin so that not only am I covered in it, but I have made a mess all around myself.
Just as I did with our little guy, God cleans me up. This part of theology most Americans agree with. "God loves you," emblazoned on bumper stickers, usually isn't considered to be an offensive statement. I love my little man, so I cleaned Him up. God loves me, so He washes me with the blood of Jesus to make me white as snow.
But, praise Him, He doesn't stop there. He's not okay with cleaning me up and then putting me back in my mess. That's where the Gospel starts to offend those who want God on their own terms. Sure, he can clean me up when I seek that, but I don't want Him to mess with my life. Through repentance and forgiveness and sweet, sweet grace, He restores my mess too.
It wouldn't have been okay for me to clean Robbie up and then put him back in that crib. It's not okay for me to seek forgiveness and then run back to my mess. God has redeemed me for more than that.
What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? Or don't you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Romans 6:1-4, 14