“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7
I looked out of the window and down 20,000 feet. The sharp edges of mountains, softened by a blanket of snow, slowly slipped beneath me. Where normally there would be the texture of streams and trees to define the landscape, now there were only hazy outlines, sometimes only flat snow miles with nothing visible to break the smoothness. All was covered.
What does God see when He looks at me? I know what scars the landscape: unsightly tangles where I’ve tried to work it out on my own, deep gorges with things hidden in the depths, sharp edges that I am too weak to soften.
Purge me! Oh wash me, Lord! I cannot be clean, I cannot stand in your presence!
And then the Father steps forward.
“No child, you cannot. But I am not looking at you, I am looking at my Son. He is spotless, and white, and perfect and He wants to give it to you. He has prayed for you, He has given you my word, He has claimed you as not of the world. And He’s asked that when I look at you, I look at you through Him.
So I do not see these things of which you speak. I see only my Son because you have claimed Him.”
And as we look, the gorges fill, the sharp edges are covered, and the tangles smooth under the blood of Christ. No longer can we see the disfigured landscape. Its white and smooth.