Finding the Ugly

One of the reasons I hate to clean is for fear of what might be lurking behind couches, under beds, and inside toy bins. I pulled the couch out yesterday to vacuum away the dust bunnies and this is what I found: A collection of probably 20-30 tissues. I just pray they weren't used ones. This is obviously what my children do to amuse themselves, but it makes my chore of cleaning the house that much more difficult. And it is a horrific realization that, no matter how clean my house might appear, I would cringe at anyone inspecting too closely. 'Cause they might find worse things hidden away behind the dressers and bookshelves. It's not that I don't want a clean house, it's that often I don't have the time or want to put in the effort to do the work that's required for a thorough cleaning. I just clean the visible parts, the parts that everyone will see.

Often we attempt to live that way, don't we? We often hide behind our goody-goody facade. We don't like to talk about sin (unless it's someone else's in which case let the good times roll!). We share the troubles and the blessin's of life but we often sidestep the particulars of our own battles with sin. We go to church and find people who are like us, with whom we can go for coffee or enjoy a good meal, we praise each other's kids, we thank God for the good times, pray for deliverance from the bad, and live life just at the surface. We walk into worship harried and distracted, looking for a feel-good, pick-me-up message or just to suffer through the ritual, we shake hands and hug and answer the hollow "How are you?" with an equally hollow "Doing fine". We turn off our brains, unplug for an hour and leave feeling exactly the same as when we came. And for many that is what being a Christian is. But there isn't an ounce of Christ in that.

Jesus was all about the ugly. He spent time with the sinners. He ate dinner with tax collectors. He spent time with women of ill repute. He healed the sick and the dying. And he loved them. And he served them. But he didn't leave them like that. The difference was that those who knew their great and desperate need always left changed: healed from the inside out. Transformed. The only ones that Jesus left the way he found them were the religious elite who lived life on the surface. They believed they were good enough to earn their way to God. They had all the outward appearance of holiness but were total rot on the inside. And they didn't change.

There is enormous power in acknowledging the ugly. When we are real, when we admit our great and desperate need, we come before Jesus ready and willing to be changed. Desiring Him. Not our own goodness, but His. And in our realness, we light the path for others, we point them to a Saviour who loves and desires to transform them. In order to allow Jesus to be Lord of our life and to truly change us, we have to be willing to move the furniture so to speak. He's not interested in just dusting the visible parts. He wants to do a thorough deep clean, the kind that really requires effort and vulnerability and the willingness to address the ugly. If we are going to live a life that matters, that draws others to Christ, that is authentic and real, then we have to be real. And we have to love in a way that gets our hands dirty.

I'm still afraid to move the furniture in my house and I probably won't let you linger too long in certain places, but come sit down, pour yourself some coffee and we'll chat about the other uglies in my life.