When the Colors Don't Match

Photo by lauramusikanski at morguefile.com

Shirt ironed, hair fixed, just about ready for church. Now for the finishing touch. I wrapped my new scarf around my neck and went upstairs to ask my family one more time if the colors really matched.

"It's perfect," they said as if they couldn't understand why I'd worry.

"I know what florescent lights do to colors," I countered, but I wore the scarf anyway. It was a special gift from a friend, and I figured the match was good enough.

As I sat in church, though, I couldn't forget the effect of those lights. Something that seemed perfect in my dimly lit bedroom (yes, one of my light bulbs burned out again) wasn't so perfect in church.

My mind wandered to Isaiah's vision of God in the throne room of heaven. When faced with the absolute holiness of God, the radiance that exposes everything, Isaiah blurted out the only possible response, "Woe is me!"

Woe is me, for I am undone!
Because I am a man of unclean lips
And I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips;
For my eyes have seen the King,
The LORD of Hosts.

There are times when I can convince myself I'm a pretty good person until I gaze on the perfection of my God and I let Him search my heart. Then I know with Isaiah that I am undone. I have no hope apart from the cross where the Light of the world was crucified for me.