Monday morning rolls round again. A new week, a blank slate, to fill with plans and activity and business. Except, like this wall, it's never totally blank. There are routines, grooves to slip into, things that must be done. Some good, the structures that keep you safe and on time. Some bad, the bad habits you can't shake.
Looking at this picture reminds me of a metaphor for sin, the memory of which puts me back in the school playground. I think it was a powerful idea in my head when I was younger. Our conscience, our soul is a white sheet. Sin stains it black and grey and muddy. So matter how much we try, we can't wash it away. Jesus comes and takes away our stained sinful sheet and gives us his spotless white covering.I'm not sure it stands up to detailed theological analysis, (What is the sheet like to begin with? It can't be spotless. What happens to the thrown away sheets?) but something abut the metaphor obviously gripped my primary school-aged mind. I think it's the idea of a new start, washing away the past and being given a new righteousness from God.
So what does that mean for my patterns, habits and grooves? Do they get renewed too?
Well, yes. But how? Still working on that one.
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