… you are a letter of Christ, delivered by us, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on stone tablets but on tablets of human hearts. (2 Corinthians 3:3)
The tablet of my heart seems like an impossible medium for Christ’s grand communication. How can he write anything in this infinitesimal space? My heart is a mere speck, a bit of grime stirred from the dust of the world and not fit to herald the King’s proclamation.
It is a wonder we are God’s letters of Christ. We are placed into the world to communicate his love and forgiveness. He could approach each human directly, like when he spoke to Moses from the bush. I believe he prefers a magnetic pull. He allows us to prove we are attracted to him as he is to us. Rather than a burning bush, he draws us near though the Bible, nature, and his most compelling medium—human heart tablets.
As a letter of Christ, the worst thing I can do is dress up my tablet. Pretending self-sufficiency writes a lie on my heart. Instead of reading, this messed up ninny has grace from Jesus that you can have too, they read, this saint has his life all together—something you’ll never attain. Others are deceived into thinking I belong to God because I earned something they can’t.
The truth is I am a mote hovering in the radiance of Christ’s glory. It is a testament to his grace that the Lord seeks out flecks like me. He converts a dust floater into a museum quality object of beauty. Onlookers gasp. The wonder is not in the speck, but in the light that strikes it. Laud the white-hot pure light, seen only where it ignites the lint.
Prayer: Spirit of the living God, may everyone I meet today see you on my heart.