I stood at the bottom of the hill and looked around. I could see a pretty view of parts of the lake, but most of it was out of my line of sight. As I climbed. At times, I could see more of the lake. At other times, the trees blocked my view, and I couldn’t see any of it. It all depended on my vantage point.
Finally, after about two hours of hiking, I reached the viewpoint at the summit. The view was breathtaking. Not only could I see the entire lake, but also many of the nearby farms and the forested hills. Looking up, I could see a huge expanse of sky.
The scenery hadn’t changed, only my vantage point; my ability to see it did.
I thought of God’s view of the world. Being outside of time and space and omnipotent. He can see every detail all at once. He sees our victories and joys as well as our failures and sorrows. He sees the hidden thing that we would never share with others. He sees no matter the lighting conditions, dark and daylight are the same from His vantage point.
He sees us at our most unlovable and rebellious and still loves us. I’ve seen myself at my most unlovable, and it amazes me that He could love me. Sometimes I don’t even like myself, let alone love myself. I think most of us have those moments.
From His vantage point, He sees something worth loving and saving. Only He alone knows what that is.
I’m grateful that He saw something in me that I couldn’t see. I’m amazed that He would want reconciliation with a habitual sinner like me. I’m surprised and astounded that He can love me.
Yet it’s true. The Bible declares it so. Jesus came and died for that very reason. He came to set us free.
Yesterday morning, as I finished my coffee and writing Gleanings, I prepared to go to my aquafit class. Before I left, I threw a load of laundry on to wash.
A perfectly ordinary task, but it got me thinking. We are blessed with a machine that tends to the laundering, and another that tends to the drying. We don’t have to haul water to do it or carry our laundry down to a creek and wash it by hand, like this lady from Mexico in the 1930s.
I not only have enough clothes to launder, but also clothes to wear while the laundry is being done and while enough clothes accumulate to do a load.
I like clean clothing. I confess that at the end of the day, I’m not always fresh.
Clean clothes are a very pleasant luxury that we take for granted sometimes.
So are clean hearts. Before we come to Christ, we are dead in our sin. We have no concept of how repulsive our sin is to a God who is completely and perfectly holy. We get quite used to walking in our sin and even wallowing and rolling in it.
Now the Holy Spirit restrains people, even those who are not His. We have no concept of how depraved we could be if the restraints of the Spirit and the rules of society were to be removed,
That is a pretty astounding statement. Yet it is true.
Fortunately for us not only is God perfectly holy and righteous, He is also merciful and just. Sinners who receive the penalty due their sin, eternal torment. That is justice. Do the crime and you do the time, Perfectly reasonable and fair.
Yet he makes the offer of mercy. I am not going to get into the debate about the theology of election here, wherever you fall on the topic as a believer you understand some are saved and none of those by merit. That is mercy and grace. The penalty due us has been paid by Christ.
The Psalmist understood that our hearts and minds need laundering
Clean laundry is a luxury, and it stays clean only until I wear it again. Cleanhearts and minds covered in the blood of Christ remain clean forever. Our flesh may fall back into patterns of sin, but when we are His, He does not reject us. He cleanses us anew.
Until next time, I wish you clean clothing enough to wear and, more importantly, a fresh, clean heart from Christ and an appreciation for what He has done for you.
