Filthy rags

There are times when a phrase rings in my head for days on end. This fact is then compounded by hearing the phrase from outside my head too. Lately it's been the "filthy rags" phrase. My smart friend said, as we talked through some things one day, "You know that means menstrual rags, right?" 

Yeah, I did know that, but the way she said it, and with the odd spin it put on my thought process, I fell in love with the Scriptures all the more. What better way to describe my "best" before God?

Isaiah 64:6

    For all of us have become like one who is unclean,

         And all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment;

         And all of us wither like a leaf,

         And our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.

I need this. I am just nothing. No matter how great I feel or how much I get congratulated for some show of goodness, it's all just a pile of gross rags. 

I love that. 

As I pulled up to the house today, I spotted the Christmas tree laying on the curb. I wondered to myself if the garbage men would collect it with the trash or if the leaf pick up guys would get it. 

Then it flashed through my mind that the tree was now garbage. Just a few days ago, it was a gorgeous tree that everyone who visited the house lavished with praise. I thought that was funny since it was kind of a janky tree to me this year. I didn't prune it to "perfection" for once, and the kids had a heavy hand in decorating it, which made it look like it was decorated by a bunch of kids instead of perfectly by an adult. I'm glad I let go and let them do. (I really am not that OCD. Fine, I am. But I'm loosening up, okay?)

 A few days ago, this beautifully decorated tree was a glistened up with all sorts of bling and decoration, and was the center of the room-the center of the holiday celebrations in the house, in that I mean we sat around it, looked at it, unwrapped presents under it, and that sort of thing. I don't mean the center in any sort of religious aspect.

Anyway.

Just a few short days and it went from that into garbage.  Trash.

It was just a reminder of all the things that I decorate myself with. Cute shoes, a nice outfit, fluffy hair, makeup, jewelry, kind words, loving touches....

All that conceals what's on the inside. Filthy rags. 

SO. So. 

I go back to this. There's nothing good in me but Christ. Just nothing. That's it. 

I'm a mess. I can't do anything one thing really well. I do manage to do a whole lot of things marginally. I yell at my kids and waste money and drink too much coffee and think judgmental thoughts and say snarky things and lust and crave and covet and lie and watch things I shouldn't and read things I shouldn't and wonder things I shouldn't and cuss in my head even, and for the most part no one knows.

Because I cover it up with fancy things.

And heaven forbid if I stumble and do something right in front of people. Oh, the praise. 

And I think, "Huh. If you only knew."

See as much as I love Christ, and as much as I'm in love with Him, I can do no good. I am no good. Apart from Him I'm just nothing.

And this is just freeing. I'm NOTHING! I'm HOPELESS! I STINK at everything I do. 

Except Him. He makes me able. He's the only good thing about me. And I'm so glad, because that way HE gets all the glory. 

I felt a kinship with that discarded tree. If not for Christ, I'd be laying in a gutter. Probably for real. I loved being reminded that if I even think about boasting in one little thing about myself, that's just me, trying to hang a pretty decoration on a dead tree.  

If I hear a good word about myself, I need to remind myself "That's Christ. I should be in a gutter."

I love it when Christ makes me keep it real.