The Key

Once there was an old man who would walk through the neighborhood with a mysterious small drawstring bag attached to his belt. These were hard times and a lot of people were out of work. Like clockwork, he would come in to town early in the morning knocking on doors looking for odd jobs and in return be paid with food.
Rumor had it that he lived by the railroad tracks underneath a bridge with the other homeless people whom he would share some of his days ‘wages’ with.
Everyday he would walk the streets of our small town scavenging through the garbage occasionally finding treasures, even if they were only that in his own eyes.
He was an odd man. Humped over, his clothing and shoes always larger than his frame could hold. He had a scuffle when he walked that was slow, never in a hurry, never seemingly going anywhere in particular. He bore the signs of age, his face and hands hardened through years of hard labor and weather. Yet there was a kindness that showed through in his almost toothless smile and the gentleness with which he would pat a child’s head as he walked by. The only name we ever knew him by was George.

Over the years, he became a fixture within our little bedroom community.
I remember the time a fire started in a neighbor’s house and George was one of the first people there. He certainly couldn’t help put out the fire but his words of encouragement and hope were perfect to squelch the fear in our neighbors.

At the other end of town stood an old Victorian mansion. My mother told us of stories her mother told them about how it was the showcase of the town when she had been a young girl. Its beauty and elegance would have made the mansions of today pale by comparison. Inside the ornate trim, marble flooring imported from Italy and woven tapestries from around the world hung in the grand hall and were breathtaking. The sounds of laughter and music from the conservatory filled the air like an enchanting melody. Beautifully manicured gardens were the envy of the towns’ people. To receive an invitation for afternoon tea was the highlight of the year for anyone. The family who lived there had died a long time ago and the grandeur of the mansion had been lost due to neglect.

One cold wintry day we noticed George didn’t come into town. Although it seemed out of character we didn’t think anything more about it. Two more days passed and George was no where to be found. Finally the third day came and still no George. My dad and a couple of other men from our street thought maybe something had happened to George and decided to go down to the bridge to look for him.

No one and nothing was in sight except for a lonely box wrapped with old strips of plastic tarp to help shield against the cold wind and snow. It seemed the people who had lived there during the year had gone for shelter elsewhere now that winter was upon us. There were signs around the box that showed someone had recently been there.

When they removed the plastic tarp and opened the box their hearts were saddened to discover the lifeless body inside was George. The cause of his death was exposure to the elements—George froze to death. Attached to his belt was the small bag that had been his constant companion and inside the small bag was a key.
It took weeks of investigation to realize the key found on George’s body was for the old Victorian mansion. Much to everyone’s surprise, George was the adopted son of the mansions owners. Upon his father’s death, the mansion had been given to George as an inheritance but he never claimed his inheritance. He used to tell us that he had a grand inheritance waiting for him but we always thought he was just imagining it. When asked why he didn’t claim it he would say he didn’t want to lose the ‘lifestyle’ he had chosen…thought he would lose his freedom. Of course as much as we liked George we all thought he was making it up. Why would someone choose a life of poverty when they could have such wealth? All those years of living so close but never assuming rightful ownership, it just didn’t make sense.

Reading the above story, it is easy to think how foolish of George to choose poverty over wealth and protection had he only accepted and received his inheritance.
Some of our choices, like George’s don’t make sense either. We have been given citizenship in a Kingdom that is beyond any description we know. A Kingdom where safety, peace, restoration and rest are the norm and yet by accepting the “Key” to that Kingdom we think our ‘lifestyle and freedom’ will be infringed upon. We did nothing to earn or deserve this Kingdom. Yet it was purchased for us by the giving of the owner’s Sons life. Like George we too are an adopted heir to this Kingdom.  The Key to entering this Kingdom:
     For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going—I am the way, and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. Signed….Jesus
(John 3:16;14:1-7)

I've got you covered!

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered” is a common phrase heard not only in movies but between friends. It can be a comfort to know someone will be there to protect you when entering a dangerous or uncomfortable situation.

How much greater the impact of this phrase when it comes from the very mouth of God and is directed toward you and me.

David records these thoughts in Psalms 32:1-5, “Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit….then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord”—and you forgave the guilt of my sin.”

Throughout the Psalms David opens his heart and mind like a book to us, the readers, and we are allowed to enter into the pages of his private and personal thoughts. At times this may even seem like an intrusion into very intimate moments between David and his God. At other times it would appear David is at the front door of his heart opening it wide to welcome us into the inexpressible joy that can be realized from a sin forgiven which overwhelming had taken away the light and hope of his heart.

David understood his sin had been forgiven, covered and forgotten. The covering David speaks about was twofold: a present and recurring covering through the blood of an animal but also of a promise yet to come of a “complete covering.” A promise not yet seen by David, but for us it is a reminder of an unselfish and sacrificing covering through the blood Jesus Christ shed on the cross. Our sins were not only forgiven but also covered…buried…to be remembered no more by God!

There is yet another part to forgiveness we tend to struggle with even today. Equally important to the acceptance of forgiveness and the covering is to let go of the guilt surrounding the sin. We tend to resurrect guilt that was meant to be covered and buried with the sin.


I believe in Psalm 32 David knew the keys to burying guilt:
1. Don’t give time for guilt to be planted…he acknowledged and didn’t cover up his sin from God (verse 5)
2. Don’t give fertile soil for guilt to grow…he confessed (verse 5) and accepted God's grace and forgiveness 
3. Don’t give guilt a permanent address…he allowed God to be his hiding place (verse 7) rather than dwelling and inviting guilt to stay as an "unwanted guest" 
4. Don’t give guilt the key to our heart and mind…he was careful what he listened and dwelt upon (verse 7-8) …"rejoice in the Lord and be glad…” (verse 11) He didn't "revisit" the offense that would bring guilt


Although we may have to deal with consequences for our sin, letting go of guilt is a choice. 
Whose covering are you under today? Is it bringing freedom, hope and life or slavery and bondage to “past”?
“He who dwells (remains) in the shelter of the most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty…He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” (Psalm 91:1, 4)