Sep 11 2007
Old Gas Stations
Today I passed by the WalMart near my office. Off the lot, right near the road, there used to be a gas station. For whatever reason they closed the station down. If I hadn’t seen the gas station with my own eyes, though, I would never believe there had been one there. The part of the lot that used to contain a gas station is cleared and there is no evidence whatsoever that there used to be one.
Growing up I remember in my home town a gas station that had been closed for some time, possibly since before I was born. It was still there and vacant–and there was no doubt whatsoever that it had indeed been a gas station. While it was not a gas station anymore, it still looked like a gas station.
My heart is like that old gas station. I had an elder once explain the difference between sinners and saints. Saints are redeemed sinners–no longer slaves to sin–and so are no longer labeled “sinners.” Like old gas stations, though, saints still often bear quite a bit of resemblance to what we once were. Today, like many days, I longed for my heart to look like that pristine lot that showed no evidence of ever being a gas station–I long for a heart that shows no evidence of ever being enslaved to sin.
Our hearts, though, are more like the old gas stations. The longer they’re closed down, the less someone can see what they used to be. And the longer we have been set free from sin, the less we and others will see the evidence of that former bondage.
Until we get to heaven. “We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.” (1 Corinthians 15:51)
That changing will be like the gas station up the road. Other than the scars on Jesus, there will be no evidence left that sin once had dominion in our bodies. We will remember it, but there will be nothing left to see. There will no longer be evidence that we were once an old gas station.
And as before, I remain homesick longing for that day.
