His good is better than my bad is bad

I have spent the last few weekends working at a small cottage style house in downtown Salem. It has a great location, only two streets away from the best donut shop in town and even closer to the best breakfast place in the valley, their crème brûlée French toast and cinnamon roll pancakes are to die for.

This house at one point was the pride and joy of some ones life, with its beautiful wood floors throughout, a massive backyard with a covered and lit outdoor dining area complete with a stone outdoor oven ready for bbqing.

This place was made so beautifully, someone had taken painstaking time planning and designing this home, but over the past 50-60 some odd years this house has started to show the wear and tear of the busy lives that have been lived within its four walls.

When I first stepped into the house I was overwhelmed by the strong scent of the history lived out within the walls. The carpets confirmed the abuse and pounding that life had dished out as the house lay underfoot. As we surveyed the once treasured home it became apparent to us that the house was only a shell of the home it once was.

Once beautiful and full of life, now cold, empty and run ragged.

We pulled up the carpet to see if we could salvage the padding underneath only to discovered just how permeated the house had become with the residue of this messy world.

As I walked through the hallways that lay bare, the once glowing oak floors lay dim with dirt and grime, stained and streaked by water damage. I started reflecting on what a messy state this house was in. Everything was dreary, damp and dark a shadow of what it was intended to be.

At the same time I started sensing the Lord wanting to speak something into my heart. As I shared in my last post this is a season of transition for us, a season of unknowns. It seems that when we have so much in life that is uncertain we can easily throw our hands up and give up trying to know anything at all. But as I began the renovation of this little house, I started to reflect on the stains, the smells and damage this house had laid exposed, I sensed the Lord saying look closely. I want to remind you of something you can know today and find hope in.

You see the simple truth of human history is that we were all beautifully created with skill and careful planning, precise measurements for the delight of our maker. Yet, through the rebellion of our choosing and often the injury from others, our lives although once beautiful and full of life, can become cold, empty and run ragged.

Our lives at times resemble this house. The hallways of our heart are filled with scuff marks from being stepped on. The stains of sin in our lives serve to deface and diminish the beautiful image of God built into us.

As it turned out the floors of the small house were a total loss, they had to be painted over and sealed, drenched in pure white paint.

I must admit, my favorite bit of the job was cracking open the 5 gallon vat of white paint and just splashing it on everything in sight. Covering the floors, the scuff marks the drywall patch jobs the cracks and crevices. Covering every imperfection.

In the process I took advantage of the object lesson and began writing out my real life struggles and sins on the floors, a sort of confession before God.

As painted over my sins I was reminded that His grace is greater than my sin. Though my sins were as scarlet, He makes me white as snow.

I got so excited at the beauty of grace that I was nearly dumping the white paint on the ground splashing it everywhere. I wasn’t worried about getting it on the walls or the molding; it was all in need of covering. And so it is with me.

Every inch of me needs cleansing, restoration and healing. Life is difficult, painful and confusing but one simple truth I learned from the Lord this week.

God is lavish with His grace, He doesn’t tape off window ceils when painting with His grace in our lives Ephesians 1:7-8 says as much. Know this His grace more than enough for us because:

            -His good is better than my bad is bad-

The Bible tells us that is the truth for each one of us even the most seasoned of sinners. The Apostle Paul put it like this “…where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” – Romans 5:20

-His good (grace) is better (stronger, greater, more weighty), than your bad is bad-

I wonder if that is good news to anyone else this week? What is the state of your house, your heart? Do you have scuff marks, stains and smells? Are you broken down and in need of repair?

Know this –His good is better than your bad is bad

Call on the name of Jesus, the Son, the Savior, the Restorer and Healer.

My First name is Son

Over the last 10 years I have been called a number of things. If we were to roll back the clock a full 10 years you would have found me in North Salem Oregon standing in coveralls in the freezing cold, hand stacking pallets of concrete blocks one after another 8 hours a day. If you were to look closely at my dust drenched coveralls you would make out my first name embroidered on my chest "David" My name was there not because I was important, it was meant to keep others from stealing my work gear. Every night my coveralls hung in the work bathroom next to the coffee pot and porn magazines my coworkers kept, ready for my next 6am shift with my name on them.

David has always been my first name, 

but I have been called many things over the years 

I remember hearing the slumbery whispered voice of my precious new bride the morning she first called me "husband." 

I recall a  December night, in the midst of an emotion filled delivery room, when I was first called father as I held my baby son. 

And amidst it all, there you could find me 10 years ago in the cloudy dust of the factory, stacking blocks they called me a grinder, a stacker, a loader. I was a manual laborer. My title was equal to what I did. 

As I reflect on the last 10 years, I can see how titles have at times become too central to me. There have been times that the title 'husband' has made me protective and jealous.  

There have been times when being called 'father' has made me 'see red' while cheering on my son on the basketball court. The father in me seemed to crowd out the Christian in me momentarily as I yelled at the ref. 

As many of you know, we have completed our pastoral ministry at our current Church. I have left behind my office, my book shelves, my quiet space and my ministry influence, not to mention countless friends. I have set aside my 'pastor' title. 

To be honest it was both the saddest thing I have ever had to do and the most relieving; pastoral ministry is a heavy burden to carry, an honor that is as much a blessing as a challenge. I am passionate about pastoral ministry, caring for and encouraging the people God blesses us with. But, being called pastor often became so much more than a title. To be honest being a pastor took all of me. I carried the burdens of God's people with me, I would be overjoyed by ministry successes but on a deeper level I found myself discouraged by the challenges.  At times over the 7 years of pastoral ministry I believe I lost myself in the role.   

My title often crept in and became my identity.

For all practical purposes my title had become my first name, the primary describer of my life, my prized honor, my favorite role, my calling, my joy.

My title had become my first name.

If you were to stop at this moment and consider what your 'first name' is, what would you say? What is it about you that is so central that identifies you as significant?

Throughout this transition I have learned a few lessons the first being this,

my first name (primary identity) in God’s eyes is not David, it is not Pastor or husband or Father.

My first name, in God’s eyes is not even servant or slave... it is Son.

Check out  1 John 3:1

"Behold what manner of love the Father has for us, that we should be called children of God."   

So yours and my primary identity is grounded not in something we do, but in the gift of adoption. Before any other title, or descriptive term, God sees us as…    Sons & Daughters

Today I am rejoicing in the truth that I am first and foremost a son of God.

Always, Son

                                    Though all else changes…

                                                                                                Always Son

What an amazing irrevocable gift, always embraced, never cast aside. Son. 
This identity can be yours as well, if you don't know Him, His name is Jesus the true Son who gave His life that we might be sons & daughters in Him.