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| Apparently, the hospital where I was born has been converted into top-dollar condos... |
We just returned from a family trip to New York City, my birthplace. I absolutely love going back. And I absolutely hate going back.
You see, New York City is such a place of extreme contradictions. If you've been there, you know what I mean.
There is vitality and beauty and light and good-natured boisterousness. There is also anger and muck and darkness and rude vulgarity.
One moment your nostrils are filled with tantalizing aromas wafting from a five-star grill. Then with the very next step you're overtaken by indescribable stench. The panoramic views from the Top of the Rock are breathtaking. The sights off the Square can make you recoil.
And then there's the subway. The intricate system of comings and goings for workers and dreamers alike. The guts of the city that never see the light of day. The subway stations are lined with beautifully intricate mosaic walls, framed up by rusty beams and grimy floors.
Whenever I visit the city, I vacillate between wanting to stay there forever, and wanting to hop the next train back to JFK. On this trip, as I felt that familiar ambivalence, it occurred to me that I am New York City. And so are you.
I am blessed in countless, beautiful ways. I've been given talents that I love to use. And I have some great qualities, at least that's what the people who love me say. My life looks shiny and beautiful and vibrant. Sometimes.
At other times, it is wounded and dark and unreliable and selfish. Just like the subway system running under the city, I have both glittery dreams and yucky thoughts.
New York City is the human condition. Gilded, as my son described it. Shiny exterior for everyone to see, with a mess of brokenness on the inside.
Interestingly, Manhattan has some of the most beautiful old buildings you could ever hope to see. Designs engraved on doorhandles that someone toiled over lovingly, for who knows how long. Stone carvings around windows that tell inspiring stories.
And yet, there is always a construction crane outside your hotel window. New York is a continuous work in progress.
And so are we. No matter how glorious our past, no matter how beautiful our gifts, there is much that needs improving. But when we are found in Christ, when we abide in His perfection and allow His pruning, He lovingly shines up the good - which He gave us in the first place - and scrapes away at the hidden - and not so hidden - muck.
You and I are a tangled mess of contradictions, just like New York City. But, through the working of the Holy Spirit, we are also a continual work in progress.
And I am convinced and sure of this very thing, that He Who began a good work in you will continue until the day of Jesus Christ [right up to the time of His return], developing [that good work] and perfecting and bringing it to full completion in you. Philippians 1:6 AMP
It reminds me of an old children's song:
God's still working on me, to make me what I ought to be.
It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars,
The sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars.
How loving and patient He must be, He's still working on me!
There really ought to be a sign upon my heart,
"Don't judge me yet, there's an unfinished part."
But I'll be perfect, just according to His plan,
Fashioned by the Master's loving hand.
In the mirror of His Word, reflections that I see
Make me wonder why He never gave up on me.
He loves me as I am, and helps me when I pray,
Remember He's the Potter, I'm the clay.
So give Him access to the grime and to the shine in your life - He can work wonders with both. And be patient with the other NYC's in your life...
