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honest grease.

April 22, 2014



Everyone in their Sunday best.  Easter is when most people put a bit more thought into what they are wearing.  But across the aisle he had grease around his nails.  His shirt was neatly ironed… his pants perfectly pressed.  His nails brought tears to my eyes and I could barely look away.

What if we all couldn’t wash off what we had done all week?

What if we could see it on each other?

Would we still show up?

What if we only worshiped He who saw our sin and mess then died in our place…  and not the One who rose and conquered the hungry mouth of death and washed us clean?

Clean so we could come to Him?

Clean… so that nothing could stand in the way?

I couldn’t stop staring….only looking away to wonder what we would all be wearing?

What would I be wearing?

The grease around his nails was beautiful.  It was beautiful to me. It sounds crazy even writing it.

The grease it screamed “of honesty, transparency, vulnerability and this is who I am …who I have been all week long….and no matter all that , I knew I could come here.”



2 Comments leave one →
  1. April 22, 2014 12:35 pm

    I love love love this. My son loved mechanics and I’ve had to remind him to scrub his hands another time with more stuff to see if they would come cleaner. He even cut his nails to try and remove more and ended up with his fingers throbbing because he cut his nails too short.
    I was found Saturday night googling and trying to find ways to remove the brown stains off my hands and nails from dyeing eggs with little one. We had trouble getting the eggs out with the wire thingy. I started sticking the thumb pointer and middle finger in together to snatch the eggs up and didn’t realize until it was too late that they were an ugly brown green. I kept hiding my hand in shame.
    Profound, thanks T!

    • April 22, 2014 12:41 pm

      wow.. such a cool testimony… and to think you tried so hard to scrub it off,lol.

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