Yesterday, I got all dressed up, which never happens. And by “all dressed up” I mean I had on jeans, a cute shirt, and some great sandals. Not gym shorts and a t-shirt. I even fixed my hair and actually applied makeup to my very pale face. My intention was to run to Target and possibly Hobby Lobby before picking up Brie from school, but the little people in my house had other plans. Like taking a super late nap and waking up in the world’s absolute worst mood. When I decided we should run errands, I didn’t really plan for the angry “I woke up on the wrong side of the bed so I’m going to kick you in the face while you attempt to put my shoes on” little tantrum courtesy of the two year old. Needless to say, we picked up Brie and came straight home.
(But on the bright side, I looked really cute when I walked into Brie’s school to pick her up. At least the staff there now knows that I do own something other than black shorts and a running shirt.)
This getting all dressed up for nothing thing happened last week too. I was all dressed and ready to go to my MOPS meeting when Vivienne started screaming and blowing humongous snot bubbles. It was lovely, but I didn’t think the child care workers would really be able to fully appreciate the talent it takes to blow those bubbles quite like a mom would. So we stayed home.
There are plenty of reasons why I live in gym clothes. (Or pajamas. Whatever.) Here is just one reason. The other day, I had thrown on a pair of black jeans and a fairly nice shirt. I was going about my day being a mom – cleaning, playing with the kids, fixing lunch, blah blah blah – when Jonah decided he needed to watch Mickey Mouse. Well, I didn’t really think he needed to be watching tv at that moment so I told him no. Of course he started crying and screaming, and he walked over to me, grabbed my legs, and wiped his nose on my pants. Then he looked at me like, “There, I showed you,” and went off to play. Alrighty then. So I just sort of wiped the snot off my pants and kept fixing lunch. Then a couple hours later, the snotty pants forgotten, I was carrying Vivienne around because she wasn’t feeling well when she too felt the need to wipe her drippy nose on me, this time on the shoulder of my shirt. Fantastic. I wiped it off and kept going with my day.
Later that afternoon, I went to pick Brienne up from school and as I was walking into the building, I realized that the snot stains on my pants and shirt had resurfaced. Super. I thought I’d wiped them off well enough, but apparently not.
You know, there are times in my life when I feel like I’m doing a really good job at hiding something, whether it’s a negative feeling towards someone or some type of sin, when really I’m not hiding anything at all. My favorite is the “Sunday morning everything’s great” fake smile. Our family of five can have a knock-down-drag-out fight all the way to church but as soon as those car doors open, it’s all “Hi, how are you, isn’t it a beautiful day praise the Lord.” (Don’t tell me y’all don’t do the same thing. Because you’d be lying.)
I also sometimes hide anger or resentment or even jealousy in my heart. It may never actually surface for others to see it, but it’s there. And Christ sees it. I can’t “wipe” those stains off well enough because He sees everything. Everything. Psalm 69:5 says, “O God, you know how foolish I am; my sins cannot be hidden from You.”
Did you catch that? I can not hide my sins from the Lord. I might be able to hide them from Peter, or my friends, or the people I see at church. But Jesus sees right through me to my heart. Yikes! So, my prayer is that He will create in me a clean heart. That He’ll cleanse me from all my unrighteousness. If I allow His Presence to permeate me and my life, I will be clean. (Even if I’m covered in snot.)