“How much better to get wisdom than gold! And to get understanding is to be chosen rather than silver.” Proverbs 16:16. (NKJV).
Janie twisted the silver basket one way, then the other. Humph. Take forever to clean this old thing. It’s black as soot. She squirted dish soap on a cloth, scrubbed, rinsed.
Her shoulders drooped. It'll never come clean. She shivered, looked over her shoulder.
Leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed, Grandfather grinned. “What are you doing?"
She tossed up her hands, soapy water spattering. “Trying to clean this thing. Grandmother wants to fill it with her prized roses.”
“First, let’s get this soap off your nose.” He dabbed it with his handkerchief. “Know what’s happened to this basket?” She tilted her head, knowing he'd tell her.
“Underneath this tarnish, the silver’s the same as the day the basket was made. Over time the tarnish built up because the basket wasn’t cleaned or put to good use.
“The pollutants in the air caused the problem. The basket couldn’t do a thing about it--and along came Janie.” She giggled. With silver polish from the pantry, he motioned with his head.
“Come on. I’ll help you. Put on these gloves and let’s get to work.”
“Wow. That's some shine, Grandfather. Grandmother'll love it.” She wiggled her fingers. "But these gloves? Black." She snapped them off, trashed them.
“You know, Janie, we’re like this basket. We’re tarnished by living in this world filled with pollutants--physical, spiritual or emotional. We use all sorts of cleansers but nothing works. We need someone who is willing and able to cleanse us.
“The Lord Jesus?”
“Yes," his voice softened. "He made us and knows exactly how to clean us. He allowed sinful, tarnished man to nail Him to the tree. He took all the tarnish on Himself so we can be clean, like new."
Leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed, Grandfather grinned. “What are you doing?"She tossed up her hands, soapy water spattering. “Trying to clean this thing. Grandmother wants to fill it with her prized roses.”
“First, let’s get this soap off your nose.” He dabbed it with his handkerchief. “Know what’s happened to this basket?” She tilted her head, knowing he'd tell her.
“Underneath this tarnish, the silver’s the same as the day the basket was made. Over time the tarnish built up because the basket wasn’t cleaned or put to good use.
“The pollutants in the air caused the problem. The basket couldn’t do a thing about it--and along came Janie.” She giggled. With silver polish from the pantry, he motioned with his head.
“Come on. I’ll help you. Put on these gloves and let’s get to work.”
“Wow. That's some shine, Grandfather. Grandmother'll love it.” She wiggled her fingers. "But these gloves? Black." She snapped them off, trashed them.
“You know, Janie, we’re like this basket. We’re tarnished by living in this world filled with pollutants--physical, spiritual or emotional. We use all sorts of cleansers but nothing works. We need someone who is willing and able to cleanse us.
“The Lord Jesus?”
“Yes," his voice softened. "He made us and knows exactly how to clean us. He allowed sinful, tarnished man to nail Him to the tree. He took all the tarnish on Himself so we can be clean, like new."
"Me, too?" Grandfather smiled, tapped her nose.
"Absolutely."
Kingdom Thinking. No matter how deep the stain, He nailed it to the cross so I could come to Him. He cleans my live so I reflect Him. He loves me with an everlasting love. Do you want to be cleansed and loved? His Arms are open to you.