The Applause of Heaven - Max Lucado [32]
I was sure the social interaction would cure the inside of my freezer, but I was wrong. I opened it up, and the stink was even worse!
Now what?
I had an idea. If a polish job wouldn't do it and a social life didn't help, I'd give the freezer some status!
I bought a Mercedes sticker and stuck it on the door. I painted a paisley tie down the front. I put a "Save the Whales" bumper sticker on the rear and installed a cellular phone on the side. That freezer was classy. It was stylish. It was ... cool. I splashed it with cologne and gave it a credit card for clout.
Then I backed away and admired the high-class freezer. "You just might make the cover of Popular Mechanics," I told it. It blushed. Then I opened the door, expecting to see a clean inside, but what I saw was putrid-a stinky and repulsive interior.
I could think of only one other option. My freezer needed some high-voltage pleasure! I immediately bought it some copies of Playfridge magazine-the publication that displays freezers with their doors open. I rented some films about foxy appliances. (My favorite was The Big Chill.) I even tried to get my freezer a date with the Westinghouse next door, but she gave him the cold shoulder.
After a few days of supercharged, after-hours entertainment, I opened the door. And I nearly got sick.
I know what you're thinking. The only thing worse than Max's humor is his common sense. Who would concentrate on the outside when the problem is on the inside?
Do you really want to know?
A homemaker battles with depression. What is the solution suggested by some well-meaning friend? Buy a new dress.
A husband is involved in an affair that brings him as much guilt as it does adventure. The solution? Change peer groups. Hang out with people who don't make you feel guilty!
A young professional is plagued with loneliness. His obsession with success has left him with no friends. His boss gives him an idea: Change your style. Get a new haircut. Flash some cash.
Case after case of treating the outside while ignoring the inside-polishing the case while ignoring the interior. And what is the result?
The homemaker gets a new dress, and the depression disappears ... for a day, maybe. Then the shadow returns.
The husband finds a bunch of buddies who sanction his adultery. The result? Peace ... until the crowd is gone. Then the guilt is back.
The young professional gets a new look and the people notice ... until the styles change. Then he has to scurry out and buy more stuff so he won't appear outdated.
The exterior polished; the interior corroding. The outside altered; the inside faltering. One thing is clear: Cosmetic changes are only skin deep.
By now you could write the message of the beatitude. It's a clear one: You change your life by changing your heart.
How do you change your heart? Jesus gave the plan on the mountain. Back away from the beatitudes once more and view them in sequence.
The first step is an admission of poverty: "Blessed are the poor in spirit. . . ." God's gladness is not received by those who earn it, but by those who admit they don't deserve it. The joy of Sarah, Peter, and Paul came when they surrendered, when they pleaded for a lifeguard instead of a swimming lesson, when they sought a savior instead of a system.
The second step is sorrow: "Blessed are those who mourn. " Joy comes to those who are sincerely sorry for their sin. We discover gladness when we leave the prison of pride and repent of our rebellion.
Sorrow is followed by meekness. The meek are those who are willing to be used by God. Amazed that God would save them, they are just as surprised that God could use them. They are a junior-high-school clarinet section playing with the Boston Pops. They don't tell the maestro how to conduct; they're just thrilled to be part of the concert.
The result of the first three steps? Hunger. Never have you seen anything like what is happening! You admit sinyou get saved. You confess weakness-you receive strength. You say you are sorry-you find forgiveness. It's a zany, unpredictable