Pogo and the Church Lady

I think I slunk into church today. Is that a word, slunk? This past week and month left me deflated like a used-up balloon. Months of work for a client finally closed and another stressful situation was tabled for a time. When Monday came, I slept ten hours, something I haven't done in a decade. A neighbor came to the door and I looked like something the cat dragged in. I felt sort-of like Jonah did after he preached to Ninevah and they actually repented... he felt sorry for himself and crawled under a bush and asked God to go ahead and end it. Sometimes big events, trials and even successes can leave us depleted. 

So that's where I was this morning....a big ole mess of used-up emotions. The pastor read from the Scriptures, I'm not sure even which ones. My husband was home sick in bed and I felt all alone. I looked down at my dress and realized it was pretty sad. Some of the beads had fallen off and there was a whole lot of wear showing on it. On top of that I was having a really bad hair day. I felt fat, ugly and squashed. That's just the truth. There was lovely music, great fellowship, confession, and truth laid open from the pulpit. I have a good vantage point, as I sit by the piano during the music and Scripture reading with my flute. I can see a lot of souls from there -- happy ones, tortured ones, mean ones, sweet ones, old and young, wrinkled and fresh. All hypocrites. Yes, we all are. We put on our finest, but we're still sinners. We hurt people when we don't mean to, we lie in ways that we don't even know, we steal time, we lust, we blaspheme, we covet, we don't love. And worse, much worse. As I looked around the congregation of hypocrites that all say one thing and do another, I feel sad for those who have left the church because they say it is full of hypocrites. Well, to quote Pogo, "We have met the enemy and he is us."

As Communion was served from the Lord's Table, I contemplated Christ....how He paid for my hypocrisy (and all the other stuff) and for those around me. Living this life so imperfectly, so messily, but also understanding that I'm seeing through a glass darkly, I left church still feeling grumpy, sorry for myself, selfish, defeated. After a long afternoon, husband still sick, my flesh and fear overtook what was good about the day and then I did it. I picked a fight with him. It was a doozy. As fights do, it degenerated into a stupid pick-fest, with he-said/she-said and much chasing of tails. We went round and round, the bites getting nastier. The dog was starting to get worried. 

Then when all was exhausted and there was hardly anything else to insult each other with, the Lord gently reminded me about the hypocrite. That one in the mirror. My heart melted as His grace flooded in, as I asked forgiveness, as he asked forgiveness. Grace. It doesn't start at the top. It starts at the bottom, where ugliness and rancor and all that smells has seemingly won the day. Grace, where He finds us at our basest and replaces our heart of stone with a heart of flesh. Grace. Where love really does win.