If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!

I have a question for you. Have you ever experienced a Holy moment? Defined one? Have any idea what the most holiest moment of a day is? Could you describe what it looks like or what would happen? Take a moment today and read this excerpt. I think the world has had some things really wrong. I think we, at last I, have had incorrect beliefs. Max Lucado has started opening my eyes to things relevant to spiritual understanding.

 

Holiness in a Bathrobe by Max Lucado

When your world touches God’s world, the result is a holy moment. The moment might happen on a Sunday during communion or on a Thursday at the skating rink; by a burning bush or by a feed trough. When and where don’t matter. What matters is that holy moments occur. Daily. And I’d like to talk to you about the holiest of those moments. I’d like to talk to you about the holiest moment of your life.

No, not your birth. Not your wedding. Not the birth of a child. I’m talking about the holiest moment of your life.

I’m talking about the sacred hour. No, not your baptism or your christening. Not your first Communion or your first date. I’ve a different moment in mind.

It happened this morning. Right after you awoke. Right there in your house. Did you miss it? — (I’ll bet you did.) – Let me recreate the scene.

The alarm rings. Your wife pokes you or your husband nudges you or your mom or dad shakes you. And you wake up. You already hit the snooze button three times; hit it again and you’ll be late. You’ve already asked for five more minutes … five different times; ask again and you’ll get water poured on your head.

 

The hour has come. Daybreak has broken. So, with a groan and a grunt, you throw back the covers and kick a warm foot out into a cold world. It’s followed by a reluctant companion. You lean up and sit on the edge of your bed and stare at the back of your eyelids. You tell them to open, but they object. You pry them apart with your palms and peek into the room.

(The moment isn’t holy yet, but it’s almost here.)

You stand. At that moment, everything that will hurt during the course of the day hurts. It’s as if the little person in your brain that’s in charge of pain needs to test the circuits before you make it to the bathroom.

“Back pain?”

“Check.”

“Stiff neck?”

“Check.”

“High school football knee injury.”

“Still hurting.”

“Flaky scalp?”

“Still itching.”

“Hay fever reaction?”

“Achoo!”

With the grace of a pregnant elephant, you step toward the bathroom. You wish there was some way to turn on the light slowly, but there isn’t. So you slap on the spotlight, blink as your eyes adjust, and step up to the bathroom sink. You are approaching the sacred. You may not even know it, but you have just stepped on holy tile. You are in the inner sanctum. The burning bush of your world.

The holiest moment of your life is about to occur. Listen. You’ll hear the fluttering of angel’s wings signaling their arrival. Trumpets are poised on heaven’s lips. A cloud of majesty encircles your bare feet. Heaven’s hosts cease all motion as you raise your eyes and ….

(Get ready. Here it comes. The holy moment is nigh.)

 

Cymbals clash. Trumpets echo in sacred halls. Heaven’s children race through the universe scattering flower petals. Stars dance. The universe applauds. Trees sway in choreographed adulation. And well they should, for the child of the King has awakened.

Look in the mirror. Behold the holy one. Don’t turn away. The image of perfection is looking back at you. The holy moment has arrived.

I know what you are thinking. You call that “holy”? You call that “perfect”? You don’t know what I look like at 6:30 A.M. No, but I can guess. Hair matted. Pajamas wrinkled. Belly bulging. Dried out lips. Pudgy eyes. A face that could scare a dog.

“Anything but holy,” you say. “Give me an hour and I’ll look holy. Give me some coffee, some makeup. Give me a toothbrush and a hairbrush, and I’ll make this body presentable. Then take me to the Holy of Holies. Then I’ll make heaven smile.”

Ah, but there’s where you’re wrong. You see, what makes the morning moment so holy is its honesty. What makes the morning mirror hallowed is that you are seeing exactly what god sees. And who God loves.

No makeup. No pressed shirts. No power ties. No layers of images. No status jewelery. Just unkempt honesty. He doesn’t love your title. Your style; your accomplishments.

Just you.

“Love,” wrote one forgiven soul, “covers over a multitude of sins.” Sounds like God’s love.

“He has made perfect forever those who are being made holy,” wrote another. (Heb 10:14)

Underline the word perfect. Note that the word is not better. Not improving. Not on the upswing. God doesn’t improve; he perfects. What does the perfect person lack?

Now I know there is a sense in which we are imperfect. We still err. We still stumble. We still do exactly what we don’t want to do. And that part of us is, according to the verse, “being made holy.”

But when it comes to our position before God, we’re perfect. When he sees each of us, he see one who has been made perfect through the One who is perfect — Jesus Christ.

“For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” Please don’t miss the impact of this verse. When God sees us, he also sees Christ. He sees perfection! Not perfection earned by us, mind you, but perfection paid for by him.

“For God caused Christ, who himself knew nothing of sin, actually to be sin for our sakes, so that in Christ we might be made good with the goodness of God.”

Note the last four words: “the goodness of God.” God’s goodness is your goodness. You are absolute perfection. Flawless. Without defects or mistakes. Unsullied. Unrivaled. Unmarred. Peerless. Virgin pure. Undeserved yet unreserved perfection.

No wonder heaven applauds when you wake up. A masterpiece has stirred.

“Shh,” whispers the stars, “look at the wonder of that child.”

“My!” gasp the angels, “What a prodigy God has created.”

 

 

So while you groan, eternity gasps in wonder. As you stumble, angels are star struck. What you see in the mirror is in reality a morning miracle. Holiness in a bathrobe. Go ahead and get dressed. He has already seen you as you really are. And in His book, you are perfect. The holiest moment of your life. Those other moments are special. They sparkle with reverence, but they do not compare to this one moment.

*****************************************************************

 

This is Chapter 25 in Max Lucado’s book, In the Eye of the Storm. I think it has been one of the best I have ever read. Maybe because it is so relative to things I have been thinking about over the past few years. Religion was missing something to me. My beliefs were shallow.

 

As a matter of fact, stuff like this made me feel uncomfortable. I ignored it. It seemed fake. Lucado has an uncanny ability to enlighten scripture and God’s truth and make it applicable to life here and now.

Here’s the point. I’ve found that my previous beliefs and perceptions regarding religion and spirituality were really far from truth. Kind of like the story. God’s view of our lives is vastly different than our own.

 

Could our beliefs be clouded in other areas as well? Our understandings misguided too? They were for me. They are for me. Max Lucado’s writing is clarifying. I’ve never quite understood Biblical writing in these realistic perspectives.

 

Keep this in mind tomorrow morning while you get your first glance of your mug in the mirror. What you see, what you understand may not be as it really is.