~~ Shall We Throw These Away? ~~
|Shall We Throw These Away? |
I have the great honour and privilege of being hostess to an honoured guest. O, how my soul loves Him, (I cannot help it you know!)
When He came over the threshold of my door I knew at once that the light and warmth of heaven itself was entering in. I longed to make Him welcome and as comfortable as possible in my humble abode.
The last thing I would have wanted to do
He instantly made Himself at home moving from one room to another scanning with His discerning eye all of my possessions, making my house a home – and as He did so I became aware of the fact that there were many things out of the sight of human eye that He knew about, and that made me feel uncomfortable.
He moved purposefully over to a small pile of magazines and lifted one from underneath and said with tenderness: “shall we throw this away?”
At the end of that day He sat reclined in my favourite chair in front of the glowing fire, which burned the last of the logs I had gathered for the winter last year. In his hand was a mug of hot coffee and a look of complete contentment on His face, eyes closed, breathing deeply – as if He was asleep but I knew He wasn’t!
“How unworthy I was to have such an honourable guest in my home”, I thought,
With the dawning of a brand new day heralded by the sweetest birdsong I ever did hear, I dressed and headed out into my garden to find Him whom my soul loves.
There walking on the grass wet with the dew He reached out from time to time to cup a flower in His hand and breathed in its sweet fragrance. I watched Him stoop and with His hand He gently started to pull from the soil some weeds. I followed Him closely and watched Him as He removed the offending weeds, (some of them were more stubborn than others it seemed), and He placed them into the bucket I was carrying. And when the job was done I knew what He would say – “Shall we throw these away?”
I looked into the face of the one who was once marred and smitten and allowed His eyes to penetrate the innermost depths of my soul and I knew that there were things hidden there that perhaps only He knew about. Thoughts here and there without number, a catalogue of unconfessed sins, and a bucket crammed to the brim with the weeds of pride and self pity! Things that I knew that would grieve the spirit of my Precious One and I knew what those eyes were asking: “Shall we throw these away?”
“Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts:
"If we confess our sins,