Honest

 

I look out the prayer window at the stripped-down nakedness of winter. Bare branches blow in the icy breeze. Shades of brown fields fade into a sky showing shades of grey.

And then my eye is arrested by something different. Entangled in the barren bush near the window, the mother-of-pearl-y seed pods of stray ‘Honesty’ wave. Their translucence reveals the few seeds borne within the pod. Signs of life contrasting with signs of suspended animation.

Honesty. A rare characteristic amongst many leaders these days, where truth is spun to reflect well on those who spin it. Honesty. A challenging concept sometimes in my own inner life.

A reading I had this morning is from Zechariah 3. Satan stands before God’s throne proudly pointing at the filthy rags the failure Joshua is wearing. Does God agree the guy is a loser? No. He tells satan to shut up, basically, and tenderly cleans the dirty Joshua and clothes him in heavenly raiment.

The retina of God’s eye picks up not so much the dirt and shame, but the seeds of life Joshua carries. Perspective.

God is for us. I don’t want to believe the lies which drop into my mind, suggesting that I or someone else is not good enough. I choose to believe the One who is the way, the truth and the life, who looks at my skinned knees and dirty trousers, knows I’m not good enough, and draws me towards the heavenly sink anyway, gently washing the grime of the world away and re-clothing me in clean robes I don’t deserve.

Because the honest truth is that is exactly why Jesus was born in that stable long ago. Thank you, my Lord and the Saviour of the world, grimy and filthy as it is. You see the seeds of promise, and you will bring them to flower.