I scrubbed the baseboards, cleaned out the stove, washed the windows, and wiped out the microwave this morning. For five hours (minus a trip to the playground), I washed our house inside and out. But looking around, you wouldn't know it. It seems like my toddler tries her best to wreck havoc while my back is turned. The rug I just vacuumed yesterday is now covered in cereal, random toys are spread throughout the house, ready to be tripped on. No matter how hard I try, my level of cleanliness is never quite enough. There's always something else to do. Always another area that needs attention.
In a house, this is understandable. Good enough really is good enough. To be honest, I'd rather spend time outside with my toddler, versus having an immaculate house.
But good enough, isn't good enough when it comes to my heart, my soul.
I can try my best.
I can live a good life. Help those around me, make sure I don't steal, or curse, or commit adultery.
But it's not enough.
I can't get to heaven on works enough.
The outer rooms of my heart may be decently clean, but there's a level of silt that never goes away. There are those dark corners, those closets, where sin resides. Those tiniest areas that never, quite, get fully cleaned.
And those areas are enough to keep me from heaven, unless I let Jesus come in.
Jesus' death and resurrection cover those bits that I can never quite reach on my own.
Because of His sacrifice, my heart is completely clean. There's no longer any hidden crevices. He has access to it all, and, because I asked, He's wiped it all away. It is no more.
"As far as the east is from the west, s o far has He removed our transgressions from us" (Psalm 103:12, HCSB).
"'Come, let us discuss this,' says the LORD. 'Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they will be like wool'" (Isaiah 1:18, HCSB).