Squeaky Clean

Last week Louisa impressed me by washing all the windows in my cottage, inside and out. She carefully locked each one afterwards in preparation for winter winds and removed the screens, carrying them to the basement for storage. The window glass is so clean it seems there isn’t any at all, like we’re living among the trees. And it’s absolutely lovely.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our inner selves could be that squeaky clean with no smudges or smears?

Today at an early morning prayer gathering during which a group of us were interceding for others, God reminded me I needed to spend more time in prayers of confession for myself. He reminded me that just because I don’t shoplift or embezzle money or worship idols, I’m still guilty of sin, and it needs to be cleaned up every so often.

Job of the Old Testament is a tremendous role model for all of us. God’s description of him was “blameless,” meaning he lived a life without willful sin. But he wasn’t the only one. Dotted through Scripture are others of the same caliber such as both parents of John the Baptist who were also labeled “blameless.” And several others referred to themselves as being blameless before God.

Whenever I ask the Lord if he sees anything in me that’s blame-worthy, his answer is always, “Yes,” followed by the specifics. It’s as if he says, “The window to your soul has gotten cloudy. How ‘bout cleaning it off?”

All of us want to be clean before God, but it’s hard to agree with him about specific smudges. Most of us jump to defend ourselves, even to him. And maybe that’s the main reason he’s never referred to someone like me as “blameless.” Maybe Job and the others didn’t self-defend but instead quickly responded to God’s charges with ownership of guilt and immediate requests for forgiveness.

Each of us is born with a sense of right and wrong, along with a conscience to prompt us. We can choose to run from wrong or walk as close to it as possible. But God can look at our hearts as easily as I can look through my clean windows. He sees everything in there, and is keenly interested in all of it, though he’s looking at one thing above all others: our intentions.

Despite the smudges and smears on the glass, if our honest longing is to be clean before him, his response is always to pull out his supernatural Windex and work washing wonders within us. He deals harshly with willful sin but lavishes grace when our underlying purpose is to please him.

So, although I’d love to be “blameless” before God, until I get there, I’ll work on just being “squeaky clean,” much like Louisa’s windows.

Lord, “keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then I will be blameless, innocent of great transgression.” (Psalm 19:13)

A Generation Gap?

Recently Louisa and I were back in the Chicago area cruising the streets of our old neighborhood. We landed at a familiar shopping center, enjoying stores our Michigan neighborhood doesn’t offer, and I noticed the absence of one I’d shopped at many times during the decades we’d lived nearby: the GAP.

Located on the “power corner” of a giant parking lot, the GAP had been full of high quality, youthful clothes for men, women, children and babies, and seemed always to be full of customers. Now it was abandoned. The chain was founded in the late 1960’s, originally stocking only jeans and white cotton shirts that appealed to young people. They chose their name as a description of the gap between generations: adults bought jeans as work clothes, while younger people were starting to wear them every day.

Whenever I drove past the GAP, the store’s name would remind me of a different sort of gap, “standing in the gap” for a friend. My impression was that this phrase referred to one person praying for someone else when that someone wasn’t praying for herself.

For example, if a friend was battling depression, unable or unwilling to ask God for help, I could “stand in the gap” between the Lord and my friend, praying for the two to connect.

When Louisa and I got back to Michigan, I decided to find out if the gap-idea came from the Bible or was just a concept I wished came from the Bible. My concordance directed me to Ezekiel 22 and a narrative about the break or gap in a protective city wall. God said, “I looked for someone… who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found no one.” (v. 30)

He was speaking in word pictures his people readily understood, about to deliver a judgment for their sinfulness. Viewing their many offenses as a break in the wall of righteousness, he was planning to lower the boom, but before he did, he looked for a righteous someone who might be “standing in the gap” for the rest of them. Such a one would have represented godliness amidst a people of disobedience and might have caused God to abort his judgment. No one was in the gap, so judgment came.

I learned that my original idea of being able to “stand in” for someone through prayer is probably accurate. And if so, what an opportunity! It brings profound implications to our prayers for others.

As for the GAP, Inc., Google said it’s been shuffling store locations recently but is still going strong in the clothing industry. As for the generation gap? I own a few GAP items myself, so I think it’s probably long gone.

“Pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying…” (Ephesians 6:18)

Finding the Lost

When I was fresh out of college, teaching in the Chicago school system, my bank account was flush with paychecks and very few financial commitments. The dollars piled up, and a friend suggested I swap my Chevy Corvair for something classier.

I bought another Chevrolet but this time a Corvette convertible with both hard and soft tops. It was candy apple red and full of speed. With an apartment on Chicago’s near north side, 3 great roommates and a secure job, I was enjoying my new independence.

One busy Sunday afternoon I arrived back at the apartment planning to stay only a few minutes and parked my Corvette on the street without putting up the top. In less than 10 minutes, it had been stolen.

I called the police, filed a report, posted notices and drove a borrowed car through Chicago neighborhoods in search of my beloved Corvette, but it had vanished.

On this 10 year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, while listening to a recitation of casualty names, I thought about the nearly 3000 people who had vanished that day. Hospitals were staffed and waiting, but very few patients ever arrived. For weeks family members believed their loved ones might still be found alive, so they posted pictures and desciptions throughout the city.

Bus stop shelters and phone booths became makeshift bulletin boards covered with photos and names as hopeful people tried to connect with those they couldn’t find, but precious few succeeded. Yesterday I heard the gruesome statistic: only 39 bodies were actually found in the rubble.

None of those 3000 planned to finish their lives that day, but just like them, the rest of us don’t pick our last day either. It takes exceptional planning to be ready, and apart from God, none of us can be.

But there’s a big difference between New York’s picture Lost and Found and God’s. Every one of us start out lost because of our inherited bent toward sin, like pictures on a bulletin board waiting to be rescued. Thankfully, God’s finder fee was paid by Christ, and 100% of those who want to be found, are.

If it were up to God, his Lost and Found would be completely empty, nothing on the bulletin board, no pictures of the lost. But he’s left it up to each of us. And with unplanned last-days like September 11, 2001, a decision that says “yes” to being found by the Lord is better made now rather than later.

(As for the red Corvette, against all odds the police found it 24 hours later, in tact except for the screwdriver where the starter had been.)

“The Son of Man came to seek and save those who are lost. Now is the time of God’s favor; now is the day of salvation.” (Luke 19:10, 2 Corinthians 6:2)