A theology of dirty diapers

Having an almost 2 month old in the house is a blessing.  It’s also messy.  Nap time becomes a sacred event.  There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing his eyes when he recognizes your voice and spots you.  There’s not a more peaceful feeling than a sleeping baby resting on your chest as you sit in your chair.

But there’s one part of babies that’s no fun.  The dirty diaper  I’ll never forget the first time I changed one.  I’ll never forget watching two of my college buddies using almost an entire box of wipes trying to change one.

And even though it’s not a fun part of parenting, the fact of the matter is they’re SUPPOSED to have accidents.  And you, the parent, are supposed to clean it up.  That’s the mini-van life.

But today as I was playing with my little boy, his eyes caught mine, and I’m reminded that despite my (often) dirty diaper, my Father still loves me and is EAGER to change my dirty diaper.

A dirty diaper.  That’s not far from the way Paul described his best attempts at pleasing God in Phil. 3:8.  And, if we’re honest, it’s an accurate assessment of all that we try as well.  No one comes to Christ already clean.

And that’s the beauty of the Gospel that I fear many in the church have forgotten.  We didn’t clean ourselves up before coming to God.  We weren’t potty-trained and we’re still not.  You and I both proverbially crap our britches every day with sin.

And yet, our wonderful Father continues to love us… in spite of our, well, diapers.

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