As I look outside my window, I see snow-covered trees and rooftops. This panorama is so rare where I live that it may not be duplicated again this year, or even next year. White, fresh, falling like a dream, snowflakes dance in unison to form a powdery blanket of wonder and joy. Soon, children will step onto the streets, their cheeks rosy with the excitement of a snow fight or the labor of erecting a snowman.
Although I greatly enjoy the ethereal beauty that covers the city with each snowfall, I soon feel the need to snap out of the magic. Maybe because of my not-so-twenty-something age, I compute the difficulties of miry roads, icy driveways and frost-filled air to conclude that maybe all this fleeting wonder is overrated. Or maybe it is because the aftermath of such a snowfall, summed up in slushy, dirty grounds is an adequate parallel to the dirt sin leaves behind on my white and shiny dress.
The moment I received the salvation of Jesus Christ into my soul, He placed a beautiful white robe of righteousness upon me. Everything was new, and clean, and bright, much like this first snowfall. I sparkled and glowed as I danced around in my new dress, the light of His love bathing me in jewels. It was so blindingly white! But the mire followed closely. A gossip session. A harsh phrase. A condemning glare. Soon my garment had no trace of white in it.
I know that, because I live and move and breathe in Him, positionally I am still white. My robe still sparkles and glows because He washes it in His blood as I humbly plead His forgiveness. However, I don't feel so white most days. In fact, the voices in my head remind me day by day (sometimes second by second) of my many failures. My heart is prone to wander and, in my wander, to hide my face from Him. However, the more I run from Him, the louder the condemning rattle grows. It is only when I face the noise of my trespasses that freedom and forgiveness come.
I am realizing that my feelings are completely irrelevant when it comes to my positional righteousness. It doesn't matter if some days I feel like I have stepped out of a mud bath. It is also equally unimpressive if at times I feel like the magic eraser has rubbed me spotless. I am righteous because He said I am. End of story. Let all other voices be silent where He has spoken. Let Him be the beginning and the end of my righteousness. Everything else is simply background noise.
"Come now, and let us reason together," Says the LORD, "Though your sins
are as scarlet, They will be as white as snow; Though they are red like
crimson, They will be like wool." Isaiah 1:18
"For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes."