God and Legos

I thought alliterating this title would be a little overkill – Legos and the Lord. (I just can’t help myself.)

When looking at Legos, some people see endless possibilities of fun. They see all the potential structures that could be built. These people tend to see through the little tiny shapes and picture a building or an airplane or who knows what else.

When I look at a pile of Legos I too see fun. But I don’t have the slightest ability to see a finished product of a building or an airplane. I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I were to actually build things out of Legos. Instead, I see colors and shapes begging to be sorted into their correct piles. And I think sorting and organizing is fun. I would much rather take the structures apart and put them back in their correct piles than pull the Legos out of their respected piles and assemble them into something.

Maybe I’m a mother-in-the-making or maybe it’s just my personality. Probably a bit of both.

What about the Lego kits? You can go to the store and buy Star Wars Legos or a box that guarantees a really cool army tank. All you have to do is open up the box and follow the rule book and in a matter of minutes your thing is assembled. Is that cheating?

The thing about enjoying sorting more than building is that I would not be the least bit upset if someone came in and decided to mix the red and blue colors together or if someone dumped all the Legos out of their bins. I wouldn’t mind this because that would mean I could start over and put them back where they belong. Once I’m done sorting, my job is done, I wouldn’t have anything to do anymore. Someone “ruining” all my hard work means I get to start all over and have something to do again.

I like to keep things nice and neat and to appear like I have my life together. Why do I do this? I’m going to venture to say that it’s not only me. I’m not the only one who would rather sort Legos than build and I’m not the only one who likes to appear like her life is put together.

Christians are really good at covering things up. Yes, we do admit to being broken sinners but even when we proclaim our brokenness we stop there. We don’t expand and communicate the ways in which we are broken or the ways in which we sin.

Is it good enough to just acknowledge the fact that we are all broken sinners in need of God? Or do we need to go ahead and say, “You know what? I told a lie yesterday.” “I looked at a woman/man today and had inappropriate thoughts about her/him.” “I had an opportunity to extend grace to someone who did not keep his word and instead I blew up and didn’t let him off the hook.”

Oh no, we don’t say such things. We just go with the generic, “I sin. I’m broken. I need Jesus.”

Is that okay? Is God okay with that?

I think the saying, “cleanliness is next to godliness” might be incorrect. I think Satan wants us to stay clean. He wants our Legos to be sorted into nice neat piles. He wants us to dress up (or at least dress presentably) every day. He wants it to appear like our lives are all put together. Cleanliness can be a trap.

However, God wants our Legos to be jumbled. If we came to Him with our colors and shapes sorted, He would have nothing to do. He loves our vulnerability. He loves our chaotic and confused piles. He loves us.  

The really cool thing is that God is a combination of both personality types. He looks at the pile of Legos and sees the fun in sorting each by color and shape and adding some organization and clarity to our lives. But it goes beyond that. He also loves to pick up the colors and shapes and combine them and turn them into really cool structures. He loves building things. He loves turning our painful pile of Legos into an unimaginably beautiful creation.

And what of the rule book for the prepackaged Legos? Is there some correlation to real life?  Maybe something about Christians looking for the rules and guidelines. Something about not wanting to step out of the comfortable box because then the Legos might get confused. Do what you want with that thought. It can be pondered or thrown away; there may not be a whole lot there.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is stop sorting your Legos. Stop trying to build things with your Legos. Go ahead and allow yourself to be an unbuilt, unsorted mess. In the long run, you’re going to end up much more attractive and likable if you don’t do the organizing and building and let God do it instead.