Who am I? I am washed. Washed clean through and through. Not one germ left.
My mom was funny. She had a dishwasher, but she always hand washed the dishes before she put them in her dishwasher. She didn't trust the dishwasher to get the dishes completely clean or sterilize them like she could. Never mind that the water was hotter in the dishwasher than the hot water coming out of the faucet! She was convinced her hand washing was better.
Mom got her peculiar ways from her aunt, her dad's sister, and from her dad. In the pre-automatic dishwasher days, Aunt Annie heated her dish- washing rinse water to the boiling point. Then, she scalded her dishes making sure all of the germs were killed. Diseases were common, and were transferred by what the old timers called "being nasty."
Her dad (I called him Papa) was peculiar too. Mom told me that when they went to dinner on the grounds after church services at Talmo (Georgia) Baptist Church that he would carefully watch where the members placed the food they brought. He would note where they put it on the long outdoor tables, and then tell his children, "Don't eat that fried chicken over there. The Jones don't coop their chickens before butchering them. Yard chickens are nasty. Now, the fried chicken that the Smiths brought is OK. They coop their chickens and feed them chicken feed before they butcher them."
Another thing Papa wouldn't let his family do was to drink the water from the well at the church. "It's next to the cemetery, and that well water - there's no telling about it. It's not healthy!"
My mom's family was certainly clean and careful about what they ate and drank. They certainly had obsessive, compulsive personalities. Mom was like them, and I am like them and mom. In some ways, it's a blessing. Sometimes, it's a curse. The Bible called this the "generational curse," bad traits passed down from generation to generation.
Not only do I have my own mess that needs washing, but I have their mess to wash too!
I'm like mom. I clean my dirty dishes in the sink by hand before putting them in the automatic dishwasher. I clean up my own messes, but I didn't do a good job. There was still some germs that only hot, hot dishwasher water could really clean.
Why not put them in the dishwasher first? Duh. What a novel idea!
The truth is that the more I tried to clean my dirty dishes, the dirtier they got. Oh, and the dishwasher, I didn't even use it. That's like my mom too. She eventually used her dishwasher for a cabinet and stored dishes in it instead of washing dishes in it.
That was me trying to clean up my mess and the mess I got from my parents and their parents and their parents ad infinitum.
The Dishwasher was there all the time. Sitting unused while I tried to clean up my "I."
How did I clean up my "I?" I tried to scrub up my appearance to others through my performance. I wanted everything to be perfect. No germs. No mistakes. When I coached baseball, I wanted my team perfect. When I write, I want my writing perfect. When I preach, I want my sermon perfect. When I teach, I want my lesson perfect. I wanted to be the perfect son and tried to please them. Good grades. Active in church. Whatever it took to please them. I tried to be the perfect son, but always fell short of their expectations no matter how hard I tried. As a husband, father, and grandfather, I want to be perfect. Scrubbed up and clean.
But, no matter how much I scrubbed, there were always a few germs infecting me. My efforts were always imperfect. A germ of anger was left on the plate. A germ of depression left on the glass.
The most flu-like germ was the germ of dissatisfaction. No matter how I scrubbed myself, I was never satisfied, and scrubbed my "I" even harder.
I made mistakes no matter how hard I tried. I just couldn't get rid of all the germs in my "I." My germ of anger caused me to be criticized and rejected, and then the germ of depression would come alive sending me into despair.
What efforts did I use to clean up my "I?" I scrubbed my "I" so that my appearance would be pleasing and acceptance to others who I thought were significant in my life. One of my deepest needs is to be loved and accepted. I read somewhere that's the deepest needs all of us have.
I cleaned up real nice. I so wanted others to like my clean dishes. But, I was never clean enough. I couldn't understand it when I was criticized or received less than a perfect evaluation. I remember once when it came time for my annual teacher evaluation. The bureaucrats had added a new criteria where teachers had to evaluate themselves before the principal evaluated them. Well, I checked "exceeds standards" on each one of the benchmarks and turned in my self-evaluation. My principal was not amused. She said to go and do another one. I did and didn't change a thing! I told her I thought I exceeded standards in every criteria and that it was her job to find anything different than how I evaluated my performance. Her evaluation came back. Overall, it was pretty good but not perfect. She checked off a few areas in need of improvement!" After I left her office, I threw her evaluation of me in the trash! No matter what I did to scrub my "I, my "I," always had a few germs left on the plate. This left me feeling rejected, mad, and depressed.
That's not a fun way to live. In fact, I was miserable. All this time, the Dishwasher was there waiting to be used.
Since my efforts to remove all the germs from my dish cleaning failed, I looked again at the Dishwasher. Suddenly, almost like lightning, the Dishwasher revealed to me the truth. "Put your dirty dishes in me. I am the only One who can scrub them clean. Really clean. "I will scald them like Aunt Annie used to do. Nothing can live in scalding water."
So, I put my "I" in the Dishwasher. But, my germs didn't want to let go. They hung on for dear life. But, I got a thorough scrubbing.
It was kind of painful. The Dishwasher was right. Nothing could live in His scalding water. My "I" finally died and with it, my germs died too. Being crucified with Christ means dying to myself and dying to myself was not fun. It was painful but necessary to get rid of the germs causing me mental, emotional, and spiritual pain.
When the dishwasher door was opened, I emerged clean, sparking, and pure. All that residue vanished. All the germs were killed. I was washed clean. I am washed clean!
I am germ free. Clean. Pure. No unseen germs are left on my dishes! Wow!
I don't have to try and be perfect in my performance any more. I'm free! I'm liberated from washing my dishes by my self-efforts! Christ performed His perfect work for me and in me at the cross. I am washed clean by His blood shed on the cross.
I knew that, but at the same time, I didn't know that. Why? Because I was trying to wash my dishes clean by my scrubbing. I knew the Dishwasher was there but for some reason, maybe my pride, maybe the mess I inherited from my family, I didn't put my dishes in the Dishwasher.
I don't know why? But, I do know I was trying to do it all myself. It was a foolish thing to do and made me miserable.
Now, I have been and am set free, really FREE! That's the freedom God called me to many moons ago, but I chose to be a slave to my addiction of perfectionism. I can do this on my own! Thank you very much, but I don't need to be washed by You or anyone else. I have the inner resources to do it myself. See, here's my dishwashing rag, detergent and sink.
Put the dishes in the Dishwasher and get free from the arduous task of hand washing them. That's freedom through Christ! Freedom from my determined attempts to make myself acceptable to me and others. I have freedom to fail and still be clean, accepted, and loved. It's an incredible feeling. Words can't describe it. It just has to be experienced!
Who am I? I am washed. Washed clean. All of the germs of the viruses of, anger, sadness, and depression from growing out of my self-effort germ don't stick to me any more. I'm clean, disinfected, and, saturated through and through by the washing of His blood poured out from His grace and mercy each and every day. After all, dishes like me need washing daily like me.
My mom was funny. She had a dishwasher, but she always hand washed the dishes before she put them in her dishwasher. She didn't trust the dishwasher to get the dishes completely clean or sterilize them like she could. Never mind that the water was hotter in the dishwasher than the hot water coming out of the faucet! She was convinced her hand washing was better.
Mom got her peculiar ways from her aunt, her dad's sister, and from her dad. In the pre-automatic dishwasher days, Aunt Annie heated her dish- washing rinse water to the boiling point. Then, she scalded her dishes making sure all of the germs were killed. Diseases were common, and were transferred by what the old timers called "being nasty."
Her dad (I called him Papa) was peculiar too. Mom told me that when they went to dinner on the grounds after church services at Talmo (Georgia) Baptist Church that he would carefully watch where the members placed the food they brought. He would note where they put it on the long outdoor tables, and then tell his children, "Don't eat that fried chicken over there. The Jones don't coop their chickens before butchering them. Yard chickens are nasty. Now, the fried chicken that the Smiths brought is OK. They coop their chickens and feed them chicken feed before they butcher them."
Another thing Papa wouldn't let his family do was to drink the water from the well at the church. "It's next to the cemetery, and that well water - there's no telling about it. It's not healthy!"
My mom's family was certainly clean and careful about what they ate and drank. They certainly had obsessive, compulsive personalities. Mom was like them, and I am like them and mom. In some ways, it's a blessing. Sometimes, it's a curse. The Bible called this the "generational curse," bad traits passed down from generation to generation.
Not only do I have my own mess that needs washing, but I have their mess to wash too!
I'm like mom. I clean my dirty dishes in the sink by hand before putting them in the automatic dishwasher. I clean up my own messes, but I didn't do a good job. There was still some germs that only hot, hot dishwasher water could really clean.
Why not put them in the dishwasher first? Duh. What a novel idea!
The truth is that the more I tried to clean my dirty dishes, the dirtier they got. Oh, and the dishwasher, I didn't even use it. That's like my mom too. She eventually used her dishwasher for a cabinet and stored dishes in it instead of washing dishes in it.
That was me trying to clean up my mess and the mess I got from my parents and their parents and their parents ad infinitum.
The Dishwasher was there all the time. Sitting unused while I tried to clean up my "I."
How did I clean up my "I?" I tried to scrub up my appearance to others through my performance. I wanted everything to be perfect. No germs. No mistakes. When I coached baseball, I wanted my team perfect. When I write, I want my writing perfect. When I preach, I want my sermon perfect. When I teach, I want my lesson perfect. I wanted to be the perfect son and tried to please them. Good grades. Active in church. Whatever it took to please them. I tried to be the perfect son, but always fell short of their expectations no matter how hard I tried. As a husband, father, and grandfather, I want to be perfect. Scrubbed up and clean.
But, no matter how much I scrubbed, there were always a few germs infecting me. My efforts were always imperfect. A germ of anger was left on the plate. A germ of depression left on the glass.
The most flu-like germ was the germ of dissatisfaction. No matter how I scrubbed myself, I was never satisfied, and scrubbed my "I" even harder.
I made mistakes no matter how hard I tried. I just couldn't get rid of all the germs in my "I." My germ of anger caused me to be criticized and rejected, and then the germ of depression would come alive sending me into despair.
What efforts did I use to clean up my "I?" I scrubbed my "I" so that my appearance would be pleasing and acceptance to others who I thought were significant in my life. One of my deepest needs is to be loved and accepted. I read somewhere that's the deepest needs all of us have.
I cleaned up real nice. I so wanted others to like my clean dishes. But, I was never clean enough. I couldn't understand it when I was criticized or received less than a perfect evaluation. I remember once when it came time for my annual teacher evaluation. The bureaucrats had added a new criteria where teachers had to evaluate themselves before the principal evaluated them. Well, I checked "exceeds standards" on each one of the benchmarks and turned in my self-evaluation. My principal was not amused. She said to go and do another one. I did and didn't change a thing! I told her I thought I exceeded standards in every criteria and that it was her job to find anything different than how I evaluated my performance. Her evaluation came back. Overall, it was pretty good but not perfect. She checked off a few areas in need of improvement!" After I left her office, I threw her evaluation of me in the trash! No matter what I did to scrub my "I, my "I," always had a few germs left on the plate. This left me feeling rejected, mad, and depressed.
That's not a fun way to live. In fact, I was miserable. All this time, the Dishwasher was there waiting to be used.
Since my efforts to remove all the germs from my dish cleaning failed, I looked again at the Dishwasher. Suddenly, almost like lightning, the Dishwasher revealed to me the truth. "Put your dirty dishes in me. I am the only One who can scrub them clean. Really clean. "I will scald them like Aunt Annie used to do. Nothing can live in scalding water."
So, I put my "I" in the Dishwasher. But, my germs didn't want to let go. They hung on for dear life. But, I got a thorough scrubbing.
It was kind of painful. The Dishwasher was right. Nothing could live in His scalding water. My "I" finally died and with it, my germs died too. Being crucified with Christ means dying to myself and dying to myself was not fun. It was painful but necessary to get rid of the germs causing me mental, emotional, and spiritual pain.
When the dishwasher door was opened, I emerged clean, sparking, and pure. All that residue vanished. All the germs were killed. I was washed clean. I am washed clean!
I am germ free. Clean. Pure. No unseen germs are left on my dishes! Wow!
I don't have to try and be perfect in my performance any more. I'm free! I'm liberated from washing my dishes by my self-efforts! Christ performed His perfect work for me and in me at the cross. I am washed clean by His blood shed on the cross.
I knew that, but at the same time, I didn't know that. Why? Because I was trying to wash my dishes clean by my scrubbing. I knew the Dishwasher was there but for some reason, maybe my pride, maybe the mess I inherited from my family, I didn't put my dishes in the Dishwasher.
I don't know why? But, I do know I was trying to do it all myself. It was a foolish thing to do and made me miserable.
Now, I have been and am set free, really FREE! That's the freedom God called me to many moons ago, but I chose to be a slave to my addiction of perfectionism. I can do this on my own! Thank you very much, but I don't need to be washed by You or anyone else. I have the inner resources to do it myself. See, here's my dishwashing rag, detergent and sink.
Put the dishes in the Dishwasher and get free from the arduous task of hand washing them. That's freedom through Christ! Freedom from my determined attempts to make myself acceptable to me and others. I have freedom to fail and still be clean, accepted, and loved. It's an incredible feeling. Words can't describe it. It just has to be experienced!
Who am I? I am washed. Washed clean. All of the germs of the viruses of, anger, sadness, and depression from growing out of my self-effort germ don't stick to me any more. I'm clean, disinfected, and, saturated through and through by the washing of His blood poured out from His grace and mercy each and every day. After all, dishes like me need washing daily like me.
"Worthy is the Lamb" by Darlene Zschech. Click the arrow to play.
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