White as snow!

'"Come now, and let us reason together,"

says the Lord,

"though your sins are as scarlet, they will be white as snow;

though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool."'

Isiaih 1.18

I should never, ever forget where I've come from. I read a great book once, where a dad said these harsh words to his wayward son, "Remember the hole from which you were dug!". Sounds like a pretty horrible thing for a father to say when you first hear it, but the phrase has stuck with me for a few years now and i think it's because there is a lot of truth there. Spiritually, I was once in a dark and desperate pit, with no hope of escape except to be dug out. Something I could never do myself! I was saved by a loving father who gave everything for my freedom. I should never forget that!

It can be the easiest thing to take for granted though. After a while of living with God, we can begin to find more and more fault with others around us. I can think of plenty of people who I personally think: don't try hard enough, don't have the right attitude, waste too much time, get their priorities wrong.

I forget the hole from which I was dug!

I forget that my sins are as scarlet, red as crimson. Bright with the reality of the blood that was required. They were not a small patch of grey on an otherwise spotless sheet; they were like blood on snow! They are still like blood on snow! And yet God invites us to reason with him. We have nothing with which to reason, and he still ushers us in. Not to say 'I told you so' or hold hopeless punishment over us. He invites us to be made clean. To have our sins washed away.

I was once cycling (a strange occurance in itself) through York at about 3am when it began to snow. There was already a lot of snow on the ground, but the sky became a greyish white and a new covering fell from the sky. As I came to the Minster I just stopped. Everything was white! Completely white! There were no tracks, no footprints, no dirt, no litter, all was removed from sight. It was probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and yet I saw the Minster daily, thinking little of it.

It wasn't the building of man that made it beautiful, it was the perfect covering of God. When we come to him stained crimson with sin, he coveres us under a mountain of pure snow. I mustn't forget the hole from which I was dug, because I must never forget how much I need my God.

He makes us beautiful.

Ready to be presented to his glorious son.