Jonathan Evans

Forgiveness is daily cleansing

What are some things we clean daily? 

 

Our bodies. When I was growing up my parents needed to remind me to take a shower. Apparently they weren’t immune to the smell like I was. In fact, even later in life (no, I won’t tell you how old I was) someone kindly pulled me aside and asked if owned deodorant. Yeah, we need to clean and wash our bodies daily.  

 

 

 

 Our clothes. We all like wearing a clean shirt and pants. If you have to smell that shirt before you put it on though, you probably shouldn’t wear it. Just go ahead and wash it.

 

Our dishes. Now that my children are doing dishes, every once in a while I pull out a plate or a fork that has a spot or some food on it. They don’t want to use it when I give it to them. So we wash again.

 

Our houses. Most of us have a day of the week where we go through the house and clean it thoroughly. We pick up, put things back into place, sweep, dust, etc. If hospitality is a way of living for you, then a clean house is a must. 

 

If in our daily, physical lives there are things we should take care of, how about in our daily, spiritual lives? 

 

More than anyone Jesus knows what we need most every single day. One of the most important things he teaches us that we need is forgiveness – receiving and giving it. It is as essential as “daily bread” and daily protection and guidance. (Matthew 6:11-13)

 

“Forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors.” (Matthew 6:12) .

 

Forgiveness is daily cleansing.

 

When we’re forgiven and when we forgive we can smell good again. The fragrance of grace and mercy returns to us. We’re no longer immune to our own odor of anger, unforgiveness or bitterness. We’re easier and more enjoyable to be around. 

 

When we’re forgiven and when we forgive we can wear a spirit of kindness. A clean attitude of love clothes us. Generosity and joy are with us wherever we go. We release to God what we think others owe us rather than demanding it from them.

 

When we’re forgiven and when we forgive we can be patient with and less critical of others. We’ll recognize that we are far worse sinners against God than others are against us. Yet He loves us, forgives us, and cleanses us.

 

When we’re forgiven and when we forgive we can clean any unkept areas in our hearts that are dark and filthy. Light and fresh air come in. Things that are disorganized and clutter our lives, making it nearly impossible to move, can be trashed. Order can return.

 

Yes, I sin daily, “But you are a God ready to forgive” (Nehemiah 9:17). Yes, I am sinned against daily, but “as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.” (Colossians 3:13)

Maybe it doesn’t take as long to come back to life as it does to die.

It's probably just me, but I find it difficult to remember to water the plants in my office. There’s only three and I see them everyday! Yet I’ve easily (or conveniently) ignored them everyday. Until recently.

 

I’m not sure a dying plant speaks very well of my ability to care.

 

Everyday that I walk or drive the streets of my city, I usually take the same route. This means that I’m looking at the same things every day. It also means that I’m probably not seeing what or who is actually there. 

 

My eyes are open, but not really.

 

I need my eyes to open. I want to see what I’ve never noticed; I want to notice what I’ve always seen. 

 

I’m not sure a hurting neighborhood or city speaks very well of my ability or willingness to care. 

 

But if the love and grace of God have their way, I’ll start somewhere. I’ll notice and pay attention. I’ll stop and listen. I’ll sacrifice and give. I’ll come to realize that the city’s not only here for me, but that I’m also here for it, and maybe even more so in God’s eyes.

 

It appears it doesn’t take as much time for something to come back to life as it does for it to die. My plants are green again and growing. Time and water, daily attention and care. That’s what I can do. But what I can’t produce or command or control is life itself.

 

God gives life and God gives growth when and where we plant and water (1 Corinthians 3:6). 

 

One of my plants is drinking water like my son does after running hard. I can hear it, and it sounds desperate. All around me people are weary and working hard; many are hurting and giving up. Kindness to most is welcome. It is intriguing, surprising, refreshing. Kindness is also powerful. It is shocking, a “force quit”, a restart. 

 

It was, after all, God’s undeserved kindness towards me that led me to Him (Romans 2:4).

Serve. But every single day?

Learning to serve is perhaps one of the hardest things to learn, to do, to get in the habit of. Yes, it should become a habit. It should be something we do day in and day out, even at times without thinking, without blinking, without hesitation.

 

 

Being last is something we’re not naturally inclined towards. And yet putting others first is the only sure road to experiencing joy, mercy, forgiveness, kindness, generosity, grace, and love. 

 

Is it possible to experience the abundant life of Jesus if we resist or refuse living the way he lived? “For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.” (John 13:15) 

 

This new life is a new way of living. “Abide in my love.” (John 15:9)

 

Start with someone close to you. What’s one thing that you can do for them every single day? A kiss before you get out of bed. A morning cup of coffee. Sweeping the floor before leaving for work. Doing the dishes before going to bed. Asking about their day. Asking if they need anything. 

 

A servant’s heart is a creative heart; it sees endless opportunities.

 

Yet even when the things we do become monotonous, even boring, over time we cultivate contentment – deep satisfaction and gratitude. That awkward feeling of doing something that you rarely do has been replaced with the genuine disappointment of not having done what you want to do every single day.

Favorite Memory: A boy and a fridge

My youngest son Aidan had a friend over for a day of Beyblade battles, building forts, and whatever else their imagination found for them to do. It was after a long time of being outside in the cold, then running in and throwing off their coats, that Aidan’s friend walked right over to the fridge, opened wide the doors and reached in. He didn’t ask and I didn’t mind. I smiled and thought to myself, “He feels at home.”

 
Aidan

Hospitality is a curious thing. We often think that we open our homes for the sake of others. And that’s true:  to welcome, share with, give to and bless others is an amazing experience. People of all ages, more than I bother to count usually, walk through our doors any given week. I’ve long learned that the best way to be hospitable is to be yourself, to let others see you being who you are and doing what you do. There’s no “pretending”, trying to impress people; there’s no “pouting”, wishing they would leave you alone. Your home is theirs – games, snacks, books, TV, etc. If they can feel like they belong and are wanted, if they can see and hear something different, if they can unlearn or learn something, if they can relax and rest, if they can talk and be heard, if they can laugh and have some fun – then hospitality has won the day.

 

Yet opening our homes is for our sake, too, because “selfishly” is a poor and miserable way to live. Keeping people out bleeds our hearts dry of love. But when we open our hearts with generosity, then our hearts grow deeper in kindness and open wider with love – like refrigerator doors. We smile because others feel at home and we’re sincerely thankful they’ve come and stayed, not only for their sake, but also for ours.

 

Keep your eyes open. A boy and a fridge can teach you a lot.