The other day I managed not only to wash and dry two loads of laundry, I ironed everything before B made it home. This was nothing short of a housekeeping miracle! Of course, I had to serve breakfast for dinner, and we didn't eat until 7:20, but that is beside the point.
The chore is certainly not my strong suit, and I find men's clothing is quite unforgiving. KW sat with me while I ironed, and as I explained what I was doing, I mentioned to her that I always seem to iron wrinkles into the shirts, even as I am trying to iron them out!
How is it that the same heat that ironed a wrinkle into a shirt is unable to iron it out? The wrinkle has not been allowed to cool, so presumably it should not be set yet. But try as I might I can not get those wrinkles out. The best I can do is to smooth them out a little, and dull the edges. The only thing that is going to get that wrinkle out is to wash that shirt again.
Isn't sin like that, too? I say the words I wish I could take back, I compromise a principle just once, I take the easy way out. And, even if I go back with the same heat and energy - even if I go back four or five extra times - I really can't undo what's been done. The burning, itching wound may heal, but the thin silvery scar will always be there. That is, until it is washed clean by the unseen hands of the One who loves us.
This is why we can sing, "You have new mercies for me everyday, Your love never fails."