God uses my house to talk to me. Does He do that with you?
This is a picture of my kitchen.
What you see on the outside is lovely isn't it? Maybe it's even caused a few of you to think, "how can I make my kitchen be more..."
At least that's what I do when I'm on other people's blogs and they seem to have amazing kitchens.
But come closer. Take a look. See this stain on the counter.
Borax. Javex. Baking soda --can't get rid of it.
And every time I see it on the counter, I find myself thinking about how I've stained my life with sin, and how only His blood can wash me clean.
Check out this: It's broken.
It can't fix itself.
Just like me.
I'm reminded that I need some tender, loving care to be made whole again. And I need work. But I'm in capable and skilled hands. Scarred hands that will make all things new and not just fix me, but restore me to wholeness.
And what about over here. This cupboard...so chipped it embarrasses me.
But every time I look at it, I lay down my pride and embarrassment and go straight for thankfulness. I have a cupboard. I have a house. I have a family that lives in this house.
And somehow, through all the quirks of marred character it is becoming a holy habitation.
A place where His story is told.
A place where His glory dwells.