My flip-flops smacked where my kids dripped watermelon juice from last night’s dinner and play-dough was caked to the floor. It was long over-due for a scrub and would be an embarrassment if company came over to see. So I got my bucket and scrubber, got down on my hands and knees and started to scrub out all the neglected grime.
I got sweaty and determined to make it clean. Then I realized something. I have neglected my dirty heart in the same way. I felt almost a primal urge to scrub harder as I watched the colorful markings lift away.
When we are sealed as children of God, He does not ‘let us go’ in the same way I was willing to let my floor go. He will scrub out my sin no matter how much soap or water or elbow grease it takes. It might take a while but He persists for His children. He wants us to be holy so that we can be with Him.
The conviction in my heart over my sin overwhelmed me as I scrubbed and scrubbed. Bubbles covered the floor and I prayed for God to scrub out my sin, even when it caused sweat and tears and pain.
Then I wondered and imagined… if Jesus were to enter into my home at that moment while I was bent over my floor with my disgusting scrubber, what would he do? Would he find my state appalling or be disappointed or would he say something?
No, Jesus would get down on his hands and knees, right next to me, and would scrub my floor with me.
Why do I know he would respond like that? Because he, being the son of God, submitted himself to the most shameful of deaths for that time and endured not only physical pain but spiritual and emotional turmoil, all to save His people so we can experience a Holy, good, merciful, Father God. That, right there friends, is WHO I scrub my floor for and why it gave me joy. My chore became an act of worship and that’s exactly what He wanted me to realize in that moment.