The other day, I noticed that our shower soap was getting communion-wafer thin, so I found a replacement bar. We are big supporters of the Irish Spring brand of soap. For what reason this is so, I have no idea. Anyway, we had heretofore been using some variety that I think was known as "Mountain Fresh." It may have been augmented with aloe, but again, I'm just not certain. And while I never felt taken away to the bubbling oxbows of a cool mountain stream, I liked that it seemed to do an adequate job of washing away bodily grime and accumulated odors that may cause me to be confused with a flatulent goat.
However...
the last time we needed to go soap shopping (though it was not a specific excursion just for this function), I eyed a new "Sport Scent" by Irish Spring. "I like sports," I thought to myself. This, in my male logic, was reason enough to jump off my Mountain Stream fidelity and take my daily body perfumed scent in a completely different direction. Kelli looked with a skeptic's eye, perhaps remembering all too well what a "sporty guy" really smells like, but acquiesed nonetheless. This bar of soap, unlike the soothing marbled cream and leafy green of the Mountain Fresh variety, is an industrialized lockerroom-friendly blue-on-blue. And, as my beloved bride noted with chagrin, it smells "masculine."
Well, when the new bar was introduced to the friendly shower environs of the McAnally household, I had to first undergird the important task of melding the old wafer of Mountain Fresh into the new block of Sport Scent. This is an extremely important process, accomplished by the vice-like squeezing of the two products between my hands. There are many risks associated with this irregularly regular event (which is necessary, because -- God forbid -- I waste that last 1/32nd of an inch of soap). First, if the wafer be too thick, it could break in half while adhering it to the surface of the other bar. This would result in what is technically known as "lumpy bar" and causes an untold number of irritating soapings. The other main risk is squeezing too hard, causing the the bar of soap to torpedo from between my hands like a lubricated projectile, ricocheting off the walls, and striking me in the head, knocking me unconscious, or worse. I have pledged to my wife that if tragedy ever befalls me, I will do my level best to be completely dressed when it occurs, so she is not assuming the added burden of clothing me before the paramedics arrive.
On this particular day, the docking procedure went particularly well. The old sliver melded perfectly with the concaved arch of the new bar. the edges of the old bar adhered completely to the embracing surface of the new.
It was at this moment, appreciating my fine work, that I doubt is even fully appreciated to this day, when I had one of my profound theological discoveries.
This is how my life in Christ is to be.
When I am adopted by the Father, I am covered by the Son.
My identity is consumed by His.
My characteristics are overwhelmed by His.
And as time passes, there should be less and less of me, until only He is to be found.
John, he of locust and honey-eating fame, once said, "I must decrease and He must increase." Clearly, he got the point.
Another John, this one of Abbey Road Yellow Submarine fame, once said, "We are going to be bigger than Jesus." Clearly, he did not get it.
Paul -- the apostle, not the Beatle -- weighed in with his two cents when he said, "for me, to live is Christ." For him, life wasn't even fully realized if it was lived apart from the Christ.
Lord....may this too be so in my own life...for the sake of your glory.