The literal laundry; the figurative laundry.
I forget that the simple tasks of day to day call me to an understanding of greater Truth. That is, when I don't turn away my eyes all gunked up by self-concern.
This laundry; this heart & soul of me:
It's not dirty anymore, no - the washing has happened (thank sweet Jesus) and it just needs to be aired by the breeze of the Spirit, warmed by the Sun on it's trail from rise to set.
I try to launder myself you know. Trying, thinking I can get better, do better, be better if I work harder. It's leading to frustration. It's stressing me out.
Because even as the words come out of my mouth, even as the thoughts come into my head, I see how foolish I am to think that I can do this. For starters, the work is already done. That one phrase catches me during worship last Sunday.
"It is finished, He has done it.."
And He knows.
In every misstep, every foolish word, every dumb choice He already knows the why & the what & the next thing needed. I am hemmed in and it comforts me, I am well-known yet loved still & it feels like a wound in me. I am an unworthy candidate for Christ-like or Brand New. He undoes my foolish acts with such mercy as I come broken. What feels like hurting becomes healing. Tears dried, deep breath taken.
I hear the words of reassurance & peace mom spoke over me today carry truth into my striving:
You are far from foolish.
No comments:
Post a Comment