I can’t believe it. We are actually heading to the closing table in just four weeks. It hasn’t been without hurdles, and anyone that has sold a house knows the two hurdles I’m speaking of----the INSPECTION and the APPRAISAL. I mean, good grief! The house is seven years old and these fine people agreed to give me this much money, so just cut the check already!
I have never lost more sleep in my life. As I was having my quiet time one morning, I was talking to God about all the “house stuff” (and can I just say God bless all you precious people within a 100 feet of me whom have heard nothing but “house stuff” for the past 30 days. Precious, all of you!) But anyway, I just began to pray for these two things specifically to go through smoothly, with no surprises. The idea of somebody inspecting every square inch of my house drummed up irrational fear in me. And then, in that quiet moment, I paralleled my home inspection to God. Yes. Just as these buyers were asking a professional to inspect our home and seek out any flaws or defects, shouldn’t I also ask God to inspect me? To inspect my heart for flaws and defects? Yeah, no thanks.
That’s just not comfortable. What if I actually have to fix something? (I saw that smirk, Jason Wilson!) And it’s not just those surface things. Yes, I know that I need to work on having more patience with my kids. Yes, I know that I need to be more loving towards my husband. I know these things just like I know the door to the office sticks and that there’s a crack in that tile under the kitchen window. But what about beneath the surface? What about under the house? What about the deep recesses of my heart? What of those things I can’t see, like a shoddy floor joist? Or mold? Or a cracked foundation? What of those things in me? Like selfishness? Or hate? Or jealousy? Or complacency? Dare I ask Him to seek out those flaws, those things that separate me from His will?
So, no, I don’t really want God to inspect my heart. Let’s be honest, I have told my daughters to shut up (on more than one occasion). I’ve skimped on my tithes. I’ve disrespected my husband, gossiped about Bruce Jenner, and said mean things about my friends behind their back. I’ve judged people of another race, scoffed at gays, ignored the homeless man who sits at the on-ramp each day, and flipped the bird at the truck driver who honked at me on the interstate. And that’s just the stuff I know about. So no, I don’t really want God to inspect my heart. Because I’m not sure I can face it. My pride beckons me to just let it be.
Then there’s the appraisal! I get it, banks don’t want to finance something that doesn’t hold true value and worth, but their means of gathering the data is nuts. So, the value of my neighbor’s house suddenly has bearing on the value of mine? But mine is way better! Again, a parallel with God. Praise that He doesn’t use comparisons to determine my worth. Oh, but how quickly I use them. Yep, I’ve never cheated on my husband, never stolen (ok...$20 bucks from my cousin when I was 6, but I gave it back), I attend church, lead the children’s choir (that counts double), I’ve been on mission trips, have a daily quiet time…for the love, I have a prayer journal! I’d say, comparatively speaking, I’m looking pretty darn holy over here. Unfortunately, that’s just not how it works.
But ya’ll, that’s what we NEED God to do. We need him to peel back the layers of our soul and cleanse every last, dark blot that resides there. I want to be salt and light and goodness, but those things can’t reside where sin dwells. And if I’m asking God to reveal it, then I’ve got to do something with it. And that takes real change. And discipline. And courage. And humility.
So I will go to the throne, over and over again. And he’ll keep forgiving, and pruning, and loving me in spite of my transgressions. Because even though I could NEVER pass God’s inspection, I don’t have to. And none of us ever could. God bought me and you for the same price. He has appraised your life and mine. The incredible thing is that He sees worth in us, so much worth that He paid for us, as-is, with no warranties, for a staggering price…the price of Christ’s blood on that cross.