Blots and Stains

“Now if you’re really careful, I’ll let you address the Christmas card envelopes. Just be sure you write smoothly so you don’t leave any blots. And don’t forget to blot the wet ink after you’re done with each one.”

I was so excited to use my mom’s fountain pen, the one she kept in its special round, gray holder on her desk. This was in the days before ballpoint pens, and not everyone had the skills to write a blot-free letter or address. I was only ten, but she knew I’d do my best to not leave a blemish on those envelopes.

No one likes to see something ruined with a stain, a mark, a smudge, a flaw on an otherwise perfect piece of clothing or paper or wood. Sometimes we can get creative and turn the flaw into something decorative to disguise what’s really there.

Worse though is the blot on our character, our reputation, our otherwise good record. Oh how hard we try to blot it out, remove it, cancel it, or make excuses to disguise its serious nature. But the tarnish is still going to be there. We know it’s there. And so do others.

We can try to blot out the flaws that seem to control us at times. Our critical tongue, our jealousy, our anger, our cruel words. Unlike the sweat on the brow of the runner, we can’t easily absorb those faults with a handy cloth and throw it away.

In the Psalms we read about the memory of the wicked being erased (34:16). The biggest threat was to blot out someone’s name from the records (109:13). The ultimate tragedy was to be blotted out from God’s book of life (69:28).

How sad to think that my life wouldn’t really matter or wouldn't be remembered. That what I did or said wouldn’t make a bit of difference one way or another. That it had no meaning at all. We truly want to feel appreciated, remembered. We don’t relish the thought of being just another anonymous number in the earth’s population.

There are people today who will go to great lengths to secure their memory on this earth. They make sure they leave a legacy, perhaps a name on a building or a statue in their honor. Their families are admonished to keep alive their name and their memory.

Now I’m not saying I shouldn’t cherish the memories of my parents and grandparents, my aunts and uncles and other relatives. I love to think back to those times we spent together and the laughter and joys we shared. But those memories are limited. They have only an earthly lifespan. 

I also know there are memories that should not be kept. The memories of the wrongs someone has done. The cruel words and actions. Tthe unkind ways we have been treated. The arguments and hurt feelings. If only I could blot out some of those memories. Those things that destroy my contentment, my joy.

We can try on our own to erase those memories or make our sin insignificant, meaningless. We can try to disguise those stains so they're not so noticeable. Perhaps make something decorative out of them in hopes no one will see the truth.

But only God can truly remove my sin from existence, from memory. Only He can hit that delete button. Eradicate it. Destroy it.

That's why we cry out with King David, “Blot out my transgressions… blot out all my iniquity” (Psalm 51:1, 9), And our Lord responds, “I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions, for My own sake, and remembers your sins no more” (Isaiah 43:25). Ah, for His own sake. Not because I deserve it, but because He loves me and cares for me. Because He wants the best for me.

 Our Lord Jesus went out of His way to make my stain disappear, to heal my blemishes, to cure my soul. There was only one way this could happen. The sacrifice of my Lord Jesus' life for mine. The drops of His blood. Those precious drops that blotted out forever my sin, my flaws, my disgrace.

So now I can appreciate my legacy as His precious child no matter how the world rates my importance.

And I can face the future, both here and now and forever in heaven, with joy!

Leaving my guilt at the cross,

Christine