When my daughters were small the preacher and I decided it
was time that they share a room. The
oldest one, April, age 9, wasn’t too happy about this arrangement. The youngest, Amy, age 7 was fine with
it. April instantly became
territorial. She drew an imaginary line
and posted signs all around her half of the room. “My bed.” “My toys.” “My side, stay
out!” “Don’t cross this line.” “Keep away.”
Oh dear.
I confess, we didn’t want to deal with that, so we went back
to the original arrangement where Amy shared a room with her baby brother,
Timmy, age 5. Don’t judge; we all have
to choose our battles.
My little April did not fall far from the tree. I was territorial too. I was territorial about my family, my
life. I had drawn up signs and posted
them to the world. “Keep away.” “Don’t cross this line.” “Holy Ground, sin and Satan not
allowed.” I commanded my post, walking
the line, carefully screening all that crossed. Foolishly, I thought I was
doing a good job.
It didn’t help that our parishioners would often call upon
the preacher and me for help. Their kids
were in trouble, their marriages were struggling, and their spiritual walks
were dry or non-existent. We welcomed
them, extended God’s grace and mercy, and prayed with them. When they left I would
piously think, “That won’t happen to our family, I’ll see to it.” Go ahead and judge here if you want.
I can hear you groan. Hey, I’m groaning with you. Foolishly, I thought I would be able to
shield myself and my family from the consequences of the fall.
Couldn’t.
Didn’t. Still can’t.
Corruption exists in the
Oglesby family; it spills over into our children's children. The line's been crossed. We are broken family,
living in a broken world, and experiencing broken consequences.
But God. But
God!
This is where He shines best. Picking up the broken pieces of our
lives. Healing, restoring, reshaping,
and making beauty from ashes. This is
why Jesus came. To pay for my sins. My family’s sins. To redeem our lives from destruction.
He is doing what I couldn’t do,
didn’t do, and still can’t do. He’s the
God of mercy. He’s the God of
grace.
Hallelujah!
Owning my brokenness, and resting in His
never-ending mercy has relived me from the vigil of my self-imposed command
post.
Not that it’s wrong to be vigilant
and stand guard. It was just a crazy
notion that I could somehow keep our family unstained in a sin-stained
world. I conveniently forgot that sin comes from within, not without. Sinful
people do sinful things.
It's good to own my brokenness. It’s a relief. I like being redeemed and
restored by the hand of God. I love that
my family is in God’s great big capable hands and He is at work in all of us to
restore us back into His image. I’m
seeing little signs of it. In me. In the preacher. In my children. It’s good.
God crossed the line to rescue us
from sin and death. He crossed the line
to reclaim us as His own. He crossed the
line to restore in us the image of God. We all share the same room, the same
sinful condition. We all have only one
hope. Jesus Christ.
