The filthy orphans we are

The following is a story from Wrecked for the Ordinary by Lorie Newman. I met Lorie on a vision trip in Swaziland last year. I loved the way she loved orphans. And when she returned to Augusta, GA, Lorie got her whole church involved.

I can relate to Lorie’s story, because up until a few years ago, I didn’t give much thought to orphans nor to the priority that God the Father seems to give these fatherless and motherless children. God loves his children so much. It turns out that in reaching out to the “least of these,” God has a special blessing in store for us–we realize how much our salvation really cost and, therefore, what it’s worth.

The longer I walk on this journey of faith with my Savior, the more I’m realizing just how dark my heart really is.

Over the past several years, even the “smallest of sins” that quite
frankly I used to dismiss, seem to blink at my spirit like a
fluorescent neon sign that sends immediate checks to the depths of my
spirit. Secret sins that I used to tuck away without any remorse, I now
have to bring to the light or they will eat me alive.

I’ve done so much in my life to disappoint my Savior. How many
times have I, even as a Christian, given Jesus that “Judas kiss of
betrayal” knowing what I was doing was wrong, and choosing the broad
path anyway. I’ll spare you the details of my past sins, and just say
this. I should have been married in a red dress with a black stripe
down the back. Can anyone relate?

That’s why this picture taken in Swaziland, Africa has so affected
me. The precious little orphan girl in the picture is wearing a bright
red dress—such a contrast to the little children I met when I visited
the same area of Africa last year.

They all had dirty and
tattered clothes—most of their clothes were either too small or far too
large for their little malnourished bodies. Most of them wore no shoes
and their feet and legs were covered in thick dust. That same dust
clung to their hair, to their hands, and to their tiny faces. Dusty
orange dirt… It was everywhere… There was no escape from it for
those orphans. Even for this little girl wearing a beautiful red dress,
the dirt on her skin is inescapable… inevitable.

I so see myself when I look at this little girl. In fact, I see you
too. At one time, we were all this little child. Weren’t we all
orphaned once? Weren’t we all covered in dust, mire, and dirt? Weren’t
we all wearing crimson red? This little orphan girl is undoubtedly
wearing the best dress she has–perhaps her only dress. Isn’t that a
portrait of who we all were before Christ? The bible is clear that the
best we have—our best righteousness on our own—is just filthy rags
before God. In this sweet little girl I see a portrait of me. The best
I could “wear” before my God was my red dress. Oh, I tried to make it
beautiful! I dressed it up with lace and ruffles. I even tried to hide
the dirt and mire that clung to my feet, my hands, and my face—the
result of walking for so long in the think dust of my sins.

Although I tried to come before Him with the best I had, my sins were
still crimson red. But at my Savior’s invitation, in humility and with
a contrite and repentant heart, I wore my best red dress in my Father’s
presence. It was all I had to wear… it was my best. And in an instant,
though my dress was red like crimson, it suddenly became whiter than
snow! The thick dust -the result of past sins–that clung to my hands,
my feet, and my face was gone… Gone! I stood before my God as a new
creation! The old was gone and the new had come! And with nail-scarred
hands, my Savior embraced me and reminded me that He had paid the price
for my new white dress… the ultimate price. It was His red crimson
blood that now enables me to wear white in the presence of God.

How can I ever repay Jesus for the gift of my white dress? All He
asks of me is a life poured out as a living sacrifice before Him. What
He calls each of us to do on that altar will likely look very
different, as He calls us all to different paths in completing His work
here on earth. For me, that path takes me to orphans– orphans like the
one in this picture.

Check out other stories like this in the Poverty section of Wrecked…