I heard God speak to me yesterday through my two-year-old. We were in the car and she had just finished a very messy snack that left her hands and face smudged with sticky chocolate. If you know my daughter, you know this was a tragedy of epic proportions.
From the back seat she cried in horror, “I’m messy!”
To which I replied, “It’s ok, baby. I’ll clean you up as soon as we stop.”
I felt it then, in the stillness of my spirit, the parallel of Christ’s relationship with me compared to that of my two-year-old daughter. I’m sure I’ve said those words to Him a time or two, in my desperation, probably after I’ve tried to clean myself up and failed. “I’m messy! Clean me up!”
To which He always replies, “It’s ok, child. I will wipe you clean.”
I parked the car at our next stop and opened her door to asses the damage.
“My pants,” she whined, pointing to her white pants that would probably stain. (who puts white pants on a toddler? I do, apparently.) True she was a mess, but that’s not what I focused on.
“It’s OK,” I pulled out a fresh, white wipe from the package and proceeded to wipe her little face clean. As I did, I felt another whisper.
This is what Jesus does for you.
I smiled, my heart overcome with thankfulness as I watched that fresh, white wipe become dingy with the mess she had made. She was becoming clean. Just like every person can when they cry out to him.
“There! All better,” I said, wiping her little hands and kissing her chubby cheek, drying up the last of the tears. I didn’t care about the mess. I wasn’t mad that she had made it. I know she will make many more, but that doesn’t make me love her less. The same is true for us when we bring our mess to Him.
I thank God for the reminder of His great love for me even in the smallest, seemingly mundane tasks of life. Maybe they aren’t so mundane after all.