Murderess remorse
Lady McBeth suffered murderess remorse that sent her to the place that no one wants to go, insanity. She could not wash the imagined blood from her hands, the guilt and shame of having urged the murder of the king of Scotland. It is her mind and soul that could not be cleansed, no matter her need to be washed clean from her heavy hearted guilt.
The cover up
Now, dear one, let us look at the mask, the cover up, the facade of the outside being able to protect us from our own inner workings. You have guilt and shame and everywhere you go, it is not abated, or diminished: it can be temporarily ignored like a low grade fever, or a slight headache, but it does not go away, isn’t that right? It is your constant travel companion and between conversations, and even bouts of laughter, you have that niggling feeling of something being amiss, something you put down and now must pick back up again when you are alone.
Damnable spot
It is that damnable spot, the one that keeps reappearing, reminding you of what you have said, what you have done, what you continue to do that is a contaminant to your very soul and threatens your mental well-being: all of this shows up on the outside of each of us dear reader. It is showing up in protective gear that masks the real issues of unresolved accountability and responsibility for lives lived self-protectively, and dare I suggest, lives lived selfishly too.
Treasure trashed
We are in a battle for wellness, of the whole person. The soul has been the booty, it has been the treasure trashed in favour of a life lived well, according to material body standards. Preserve the outside, the shell, and let us all ignore the spirit within, the one that cries out saying it is I that will live forever. We eat the meat of a coconut, and heap the husk; we consume the banana and throw away the peel; we crunch the pistachio and toss the shell… you get the picture dear reader.
Forgive me for being crass
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| A painted grin masks what is within |
Forgive me for being crass, but I mock the masks. They are a poor excuse for a costume, and have become an ugly fashion statement, like a hideous item on the discount rack at my favourite store, Winners: they are for medical service providers, not healthy humans: which brings me to my point, dear one.
Let us stop sanitizing the outside, and masking our insides. The spot will not be washed away with wishing, it is there for us to look at, assess, and perhaps, decide we will think, say and do differently, selflessly, lovingly… out damn spot on the soul can be our plea and cry to God. There is a soul sanitizer, and his name is Jesus Christ.
“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool” (Isaiah 1:18).
And this:
“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us”
(Romans 5:8).
God knows what you have thought, said and done, and he loves you and wants you cured of your mental meandering instability and the insanity of trying to save yourself. Jesus the Christ, died for our sins, and he, is the ultimate out damn spot remover.
Call on his name and feel the freedom dear one. You can be fearless, in Christ, the Redeemer.
