I walk into the kitchen on an ordinary morning and sigh at the spectacle in front of me. Mugs half-filled with cold tea. Dishes with bits of red sauce still stuck around the edges. Plates piled high in the sink.
I imagine a hazmat team beating down the door at any moment. One of my in-laws showing up to repossess my husband. Paparazzi peeking in the windows to snap a scandalous shot of the wreckage.
I look at my husband and declare, “I feel like a failure because the kitchen is a mess.” I know these words are irrational. Everyone has messy times in their lives. But on this morning those words feel true. He chuckles at my perfectionist self. “We’ve been traveling and really busy,” he says with a grin and an arm around my shoulders.
This bit of grace is enough to throw me a lifeline. And into that space comes this reminder: “I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love” (Romans 8:38-39).
And quite suddenly and unexpectedly I’m writing my own version….
Nothing can separate me from God’s love. Neither messy kitchens nor dirty dishes, neither stressful deadlines or chaotic travel, neither all I have to do today or what’s on my schedule for tomorrow—not even the lie of the enemy saying “You’re a failure” can separate me from God’s love.
How would you fill in those blanks?
Nothing can separate me from God’s love. Neither (screaming children, a hard diagnosis, the amount of wine I had last night, a crumbling marriage, the bad hair day) nor (what anyone says about me, how many times I’ve messed up before, my insecurity or feelings of inadequacy, the latest bad news on TV)—not even the sneaky attacks of the enemy (on my heart, my work, my family) can separate me from God’s love.
There’s always a reason to believe God isn’t going to love us anymore. But there is also one reason we can always know that isn’t true: The Cross. It is bigger than mountains of dishes or the hardest of divorces or the scariest diagnosis. It is the one constant in our crazy lives, the ever-present declaration telling us over and over again, “You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.”
Mark and I clear the counters and load the dishwasher. As we do, my thoughts begin to clear too. It’s so easy to let my circumstances or environment define me. But God alone gets to determine my identity. He looks at all that’s in my life, in my heart, in my kitchen sink and He still calls me always and without hesitation, “Beloved.”
He’s saying the same to you. To all of us. Whatever may happen, however we may feel, Love gets the final word in our lives today.
Cheering you on,
Holley
MORE FOR YOU
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