I’m messy. More than just messy hair in the mornings when I wake up, and more than a messy room I’m living in. There is mess hidden deep inside my heart, and it comes from the messy things I get myself into.
I get jealous, and I get angry. I harbor bitterness. I let dirty words come out of my usually clean lips. I allow my heart to get covered in a thick muddy layer of mess as I let the unkindness in. It walks right in sometimes, without even knocking, and stomps the mud right out of it’s heavy boots and into my heart. Unkindness lounges on the couch and puts its feet up on the coffee table leaving stains on the once clean glass top.
I try to go back through with the windex, and the 409 and a broom. I sweep out the cobwebs, the dry and cakey dirt on the floorboards of my soft little heart. But there’s always a lot left in the cracks, and there is nothing I can do about it.
So I cover it up. I take all of the makeup I own and cover up the muddy mess and then put on a smile for the world so that others may think that I have it all under control. I walk down the sidewalk with purpose and a spring in my step, and I always answer “great!” when asked how I am doing.
Tonight, I’m here to take off the makeup that’s covering up my messy self. I’m not clean cut, and my life is not a beautiful, graceful thing like so many Christian girls will make their lives look like. There are days where I don’t want to get out of bed, and it’s not because I’m just tired. Most importantly, there are moments where I screw up and the unkindness sometimes seems to be a permanent resident in my heart, and that’s the hardest part to admit.
The other day, I was thinking about Easter and my messy, messy heart.
Jesus Christ died on a cross for me.
Just in case that didn’t sink in enough, I’ll tell you again.
Jesus Christ died on a cross for me, and he died for YOU.
And when he died, he carried all of the mess of every single person in himself. He let all of the unkindness, and the hate, and the bitterness, and the sorrow, and the tragedy, and the suffering inside his own heart. He let them all come in without knocking, and he let them all sleep on the couch and in the spare bedroom. He let them trudge in with their muddy boots and leave their tracks all over the smooth floorboards. He let his perfectly clean heart become tarnished by all of that mess, and he did it so that you and I would never have to be ashamed of the mess we carry.
As I thought of this, I cried. Tears streamed down my face and I lifted my hands as I realized how victorious this made me. I wasn’t defined by my mess, but I am defined by Jesus Christ and what he has done for me.
I am new, I am clean and I am whole because of Jesus.
There is no picture beautiful enough to show how incredible that fact of life is.
Isaiah 53:5 “But he was wounded for our transgressions,
crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that made us whole,
and by his bruises we are healed.”