Now pretend the rest of my house looks like that. I know. It's sad. 'Cause it's not pretend. My mom and sister even did the dishes for me the other night. And yet, here I am again.
When I plugged in the camera to transfer this messy picture to my computer, I noticed another picture I'd taken a couple of weeks ago. It was a picture of what I call The Rose House. The Rose House is on a street in our city that has seen better days. The city is trying to revive it, but it's gonna take some time. Most of the houses are run-down rentals and the people I see hanging out in front of them are less than desirable. Well, to me. I'm sure they're full of potential beauty to God. The Rose House is one of these rentals. Underneath the roses, it's yucky. But somehow, during the blooming months, it transforms into a sight that takes my breath away.
Isn't that how it is with Jesus? He pours his sinless red blood over our yucky, rotten, sinful selves and we are somehow transformed into a sight that takes the Father's breath away.
In light of this precious work of love, today I'm going to focus on the One who has transformed me. I'm going to keep in mind a quote that brings me immeasurable comfort:
"Trials are medicines which our gracious and wise physician prescribes because we need them; and He proportions the frequency and weight of them to what the case requires. Let us thank Him for His prescription." ~Isaac Newton
**Side note: To make sure I knew how to spell "wallow" correctly, I looked it up. There I found one definition I was expecting, and one I was not.
expected definition of wallow: to roll oneself about in a lazy, relaxed, or ungainly manner "hogs wallowing in the mud"
unexpected definition of wallow: to devote oneself entirely; to take unrestrained pleasure
Today, I will try to wallow correctly--in the Lord who loves me even when I throw down my bundle and drag my feet. I'm going to pick it all up again, but with light, lilting steps, not heavy, stomping ones.