Thursday, June 7, 2012
I felt the glass against my foot, the aroma of coffee soon followed. Quickly laying her down I turned on the light and headed to the sink, dampening a towel for clean-up. During her last changing I eyed the cup-- move that before it spills. My lack of follow-through proved to be the result of spilt coffee.
Scrubbing the carpet, I began to consult the inner-being that hides in dark corners. The part of me who stumbles across uneven ground by choice. Had I taken the time to do what it was I knew needed doing, I would find myself standing up-right, rather on hands and knees cleaning up a mess.
Many cups have, and still do spill. His voice speaks movement, guiding me in a direction to avoid a mess--my lack of follow-through results in yet another cup of spilt coffee.
And still there is love.
Change your ways.
Come follow Me.
His words are direct. But my lack of obedience results in messes. My lack of obedience puts me on my knees, rather standing up-right.
Some messes bigger than others, messes none-the-less. And still there is love.
How great a God to pour out love and grace as quickly and sure as the next spilt coffee. Without hesitation He begins cleaning up the messes I make, the messes I make from the disobedience of not following-through with His will. How great a God to send His Son to scrub and clean-up my spilt coffee for free.
He sees my mess as His gain. With each spill there is potential movement, movement back to Him. And perhaps I will spill the cup a thousand times over again, but still His love will remain. I see the Truth of His grace in the proof of my past--spilling coffee, day-after-day. Years of disobedience, years of messes, and still grace.
On my knees I scrubbed. On my knees I bent low to bring Him high. To give praise and thanks for my spilt coffee. My mess is the reminder of why He came. My mess is the reminder of His grace. My mess is the reminder of where I have been and where He has since brought me.
Spilt coffee. A mess worth making.
at 8:04 PM