
It's Tuesday, so that means that it is Behind Those Eyes by Lisa Whittle day at Lelia's. Today's chapter was number 9, "We Are Completely Flawed Yet Forgiven Completely."
As someone who is very aware of their shortcomings, I get the completely flawed part. Oh, I put on a good face at times (though sometimes things leak out), but if you lived inside my head I would be deeply ashamed. For in my brain are all the insensitive, jealous, spiteful, mean things. (Now, remember I confessed that sometimes they leak out and go spilling on whomever is nearby.)
Being a very reflective person, I do understand my sin. (Though who of us understands it completely? There are so many "little" things that have slipped away with time and gone unconfessed. Only, God has the true tally count.) So, I understand flawed and I'm a bit taken aback to admit that there are probably a vast amount of things that I have forgotten and go uncofessed and wounds unhealed.
It makes it even more humbling to know that I go before HOLY God, carrying my sin along with me.
This chapter reminds me of a skit I wrote a few years ago. It was never used, but I wrote it for some unknown reasons. Here is the story line but not all the words, just enough to give you the gist:
There is a woman (we'll call her Lucy) who has arrived in heaven. She is in a room filled with the things of her life. Some of them she is tucking under the bed, out of sight. Other things (like the award she got as volunteer of the year) she is displaying more prominently.
There is a knock at the door. Two FBI type angels walk in. The first asks what she is doing. Lucy replies, "Just tiding up a bit."
Angel 2 says, "You know you don't have to do that."
"Oh, well one wouldn't want to meet God with a mess around," replies Lucy.
Angel 1 to Angel 2: "She doesn't understand. Shouldn't we explain."
Angel shakes his head and says, "We could try, but typically, they don't get it until they've tried." He clears his throat. "Umm, Lucy it's time to go."
"What? I thought I had more time. Quick grab the suitcase."
Angel 2 shakes his head. "Mam, you are only allowed to bring what is most important."
Lucy is clearly agitated. "I know. If you'll give me a hand, I'll get things ready. Put that pile of things in that suitcase please. They are all very important -- me at graduation, the time I helped the homeless man and my picture ended up in the paper, . . . ."
Angel 1 shrugs and has Angel 2 help with the preparation. After the two suitcases are full, Lucy is still looking distressed and still hiding things in the closet and under the bed. Angel 1 reminds her that she can only take one thing. "Yes,"says Lucy. "I suppose I'll have to leave one of the suitcases behind." She is close to tears.
Angel 1 says, "Let me show you something." He gently leads her to the window. "Look out there."
"Why it's a beautiful lake!" Lucy cries.
Angel 1 says, "Actually, it is a sea. It's called the Sea of Lucy."
"It's named after me?"
"Yes. And it is a very special sea. It is made up of all the tears God has shed for you over the years -- times when you were scared or hurt and the times when sinned. He cried when you cried and when you walked away and when you came back. Everyone has a sea here."
Lucy is tearing up. She looks closer. "What does that sign out there say?"
Angel 2 reads it to her. "For some reason, you humans always try to pull up what God has cast into the sea. You hold onto them much longer than He does. He knows all you have done and all you haven't done -- the bad and the good."
Angel 1: "We really should be going."
Lucy, again in distress, tries to lift a suitcase, but it is too heavy. Angel 1 gently says, "One thing is all you can bring."
Angel 2 reminds her to remember the sign on the Sea of Lucy.
Suddenly it dawns on Lucy. "The only thing I can bring is my heart, my life, just as I am."
And the two angels escort her into the presence of God flaws and all because she is already deeply loved.
This concept does not originate with me. Well, the idea of God's tears making a sea with each of our names is purely fictional and my idea. But the other part, the no fishing part comes from a picture that hung on the wall in a stairwell at InterVarsity's Cedar Campus. I don't know how long it had hung there. But it was there during my student days with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and then my 11 year tenure on staff. My guess is, though I haven't been back in years to check, is that it still rests on the wall in the stairwell at InterVarsity's Cedar Campus. Even though it was a simple charcoal sketch, it never failed to catch my eye and my heart.
It was sketched in black on white paper -- a picture of the sea. You could see above the water and below the water. The artist had drawn the bottom of the sea littered with an inner tube and bit of trash and debris. But the heart clincher for me was a simple sign, slightly askew, in the bottom right hand corner. It simply read, "No Fishing."
I do not know who the artist was, but it has been a visual reminder while at camp and in my mind away from camp for years.
God loves me flaws and all.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
No Fishing
Monday, March 3, 2008
The Picture -- Hope Chronicles 22
I don't know how long it had hung there. But it was there during my student days with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and then my 11 year tenure on staff. My guess is, though I haven't been back in years to check, is that it still rests on the wall in the stairwell at InterVarsity's Cedar Campus. Even though it was a simple charcoal sketch, it never failed to catch my eye and my heart.
It was sketched in black on white paper -- a picture of the sea. You could see above the water and below the water. The artist had drawn the bottom of the sea littered with an inner tube and bit of trash and debris. But the heart clincher for me was a simple sign, slightly askew, in the bottom right hand corner. It simply read, "No Fishing."
In that simple picture, the artist caught the condition of the human soul in two ways. First, he noted that our sins have been cast into the sea. Micah 7:19 says, "He will again have compassion on us. And will subdue our iniquities. You will cast all ours sins into the depths of the seas." Notice that God doesn't say that he hurls them into a shallow creek. He casts them into the deepest seas. If we are in Christ, our sins are no more. They have been hurled away by God and buried in the depths.
Secondly, the sign points to our second propensity. Sometimes, we cannot leave well enough alone. Instead, we dig out the fishing gear and sling our poles over our shoulders and head out to the open water. Once there, we fish and fish and fish until we catch something on our hooks. With all the persistence of a seasoned fisherman, we refuse go home empty handed.
Why do we do that? It's not like we really want the rubbish off the bottom of the sea. If anything, it is a burden -- once discarded -- that we pick up again. God cast it there with good reason. He knows that we have been redeemed, that we aren't who we once were. But we go fishing because at some level we doubt that fact. We fear that the sin we confessed isn't really wiped away. We fail to trust the one who freed us from that sin. In doing so, we stifle hope.
I'm not saying that we should never look at our past. Our past informs our present. However, if I just looked at my past with human eyes, my heart would be so heavy I would never manage to struggle out of bed. The sins, the abuse, the pride, . . . would weigh me down so I couldn't move.
Rather, when we look at the past, we need to play close attention to the camera angle. Is it focused on us and our sin or is it focused on the God who redeemed us? Some of the pieces may sound similar in each story, but in reality they are vastly different. One is a picture of despair. The other is a picture of hope.
If you feel the need to look at the past, check the camera angle closely and always let God take center stage. That is where we will find hope in the past, present, and future.
When you find yourself wanting to go fishing, heed this simple sign. It will make all the difference in the world.
