“We must lay before God what is in us, not what ought to be in us.” (C.S. Lewis)
As we approach Christmas, I’m reminded of a situation I was in a couple of months ago. Now, this situation as we will call it, is not for the faint of heart, it is going to make you squirm, so be forewarned and proceed with caution….
My daughter, Maggie, had lice crawling on her scalp. She woke up in the middle of the night crying and clawing at her head and a vague recollection of a student at preschool having lice the week before buzzed in my brain, so I courageously pulled out the flashlight and checked. Yep. There they were, as clear as could be.
I nearly dropped her.
Here’s the thing: Just a few hours before, I was blow drying her hair for the first time, and we were all “ohhh-ing and ahhhhh-ing” over her smooth, soft, golden, beautiful hair – truly, all 5 of us encouraging her in how pretty her hair looked since she let mommy fix it…and yet, crawling not so far below the surface of all that shine, were bugs. Bugs that were immune to normal shampoo because, I read, they hold their breath. If you’re not itching at your head by now, you’re stronger than I. The spiritual implications stung me immediately. I remember Jesus’ proclamation to the Pharisee’s: “Woe to you! You clean the outside of the cup, but inside you are filthy – full of greed and self-indulgence” (Matt 23:25), or David crying out to God in Psalm 51:6, “you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.”
How often do I ohhh and ahhh over my own outwardly apparent righteous works, or other’s outward works, or long for recognition and approval for my “righteous” acts? And yet, there are bugs crawling beneath the surface.
Daily, friends, yes daily.
And yet, as we celebrate Advent, this is exactly why Jesus came. He came to cleanse us from the filth inside, from the “bugs” that are immune to all our forms of self-denial, discipline, and good works.
I’m reminded that God made a covenant with Abraham, swearing by Himself, that He would be His God. And God did this, while Abraham was asleep. Abraham was doing nothing to add to the promise of God. No works of his own to add to the covenant. And like that, Jesus comes – to a sin ridden, lice infested, broken world.
Emmanuel! God with us!
He comes to us, like He did to all those He encountered in Israel who were broken over their sin, to cleanse us, to pick out the bugs. Here’s the thing: Maggie couldn’t get the lice out by herself. She was completely dependent on me. If she hadn’t sat still for 3 hours while I washed her hair with the special shampoo and divided her hair into way-too-many-to-count half inch sections using the tiny comb to scour through every millimeter of her hair, we couldn’t have gotten rid of the lice, and they could have infected the rest of us.
I’ll be honest, I squirmed and pushed her away at the first sight of the infestation. I was scared for myself. But Jesus! Jesus, who comes to us in our sin, our greed, our self-righteousness, our selfishness, never winces, doesn’t leave us, and constantly moves toward us. The gospels remind me that Jesus is constantly moving towards sinners, not away from them. Because He must get close – yes, that close – to destroy what seeks to kill us.
Often we try to hide behind our shinning beautiful good works, self-discipline, and comparison to those who are “worse,” not acknowledging that like Paul, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners – of whom I am the worst” (1 Timothy 1:15). Paul must have known the secret in acknowledging his need and dependence on Jesus, which brings us back to our C.S. Lewis quote: “We must lay before God what is in us, not what ought be in us.”
Young kids are honest, painfully so at times. Maggie will still tell you she had bugs in her hair with no shame or thought that you would scurry away from her. She knows Mom will take care of it if it happens again. She knows she needed a source outside of herself, and has no shame admitting it.
What would it look like to confess our weakness and need that freely? And embrace those who do? Now, I know my analogy isn’t perfect and does break down, but I can’t help but see it spiritually. I’m reminded of what James tells us: “confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (James 5:16). And we confess because Jesus came to “forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9) and wash us whiter than snow even though are sins are like scarlet (Isaiah 1:18). And not just for me, but for my kids! But how often am I repelled by their sin? And others’ sin? Offended by their greed, selfishness, discontentment, and anger? All things that I’m actually the bigger sinner in and am on equal footing at the cross with. What if I walked toward them in love? What if I could give the grace to let others be where they are, knowing that it is God who completes every work He begins.
So, friends…Let’s take to Jesus what is actually in us, not hiding in our works because we are already hidden in Him. Let’s walk our hearts and our kids to the edge of the manger and the foot of the cross to gaze in wonder and gratitude at the One who came, who comes, and who will come again.
Let’s run towards Him and towards the sinners He came to rescue – proclaiming His light in the darkness, His healing in the parts we didn’t know were infected, and His life abundant – all for sinners like you and me.
After all, that’s why He came.
About the Author:
Megan and her husband Ryan planted New City Church in Lawrenceville, GA in 2015. They met 13 years ago in Las Vegas as part of a church plant team where they fell in love with each other and church planting. She is passionate about discipleship and serves as the director of discipleship at their church. She and Ryan love being parents to their tribe of four crazy kids and thrive on adventure. You can read more about her life as a mother, how she is daily overcoming MS through the grace of Jesus, and how she is learning more and more of what it means to abide in Jesus, no matter the circumstance, at her blog: A Life of Abiding.