One of my favorite songs is “Love the House You're In” by Spencer Krug. It starts like this:
I regretfully withdraw my offer to try to improve myself
I sincerely believe the results would be disaster
To some, this will sound like heresy. Lent is a season to renew the struggle against sin and evil. What can that mean but improving ourselves?
Isaiah 64 is one of Israel’s great confessions of sin. Israel admitted to God, “we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”
Self-improvement can be a disaster. We do a lot of damage in the name of “improvement.” It can also be a trap, keeping us focused on ourselves. Worse, it can be an act of rebellion against God, not the righteous work we imagine it is. As if we are telling the Potter to butt out, we’ll take it from here.
Can you surrender yourself to the Potter’s merciful, transforming hands? I keep learning the hard way that I’d rather be in control than be healed, made whole, made new by God.
“Love the House You're In” or simply being all of the above—bruised and blessed, bruising and beloved—means this utter dependence on God. This purple Lenten struggle is nothing more or less than to relax into the Potter's hands.