Dead Men's Bones

Matthew 23:27 “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.”

Dead men’s bones. I’m afraid this phrase captured me as soon as I read it. It touched me in a way that almost made me squirm. Because it’s true, and because these bones are inside of me.

These bones are the “old man” that Christ came to save me from. They are the last remnants of something evil or wrong or destructive that was once alive and once very much a part of me. And now, dead, they are still very much a part of me. They are the terrible, ugly, festering secrets that I keep locked inside. They are the dreadful truths about myself that I can ignore or hide when I’m with others.
But when I’m alone, they rise up like ghosts from the past, reminding me, haunting me, tormenting me - - telling me that I still have this dead person “living” inside of me, that it is still very much a part of who I am. All the old regrets; the wretched minutes of my short history that cost me so much; the “unChristian” feelings of depression, hatred, and bitterness that overwhelm me when I am weak. It all makes me feel so worthless, dirty, impure, and…dead.

When people see me, I don’t think they glimpse the dead men stirring inside. They see something else entirely. I know because there is one compliment which, directly or indirectly, I have often received over the past several years. And that is that I am always smiling. When they see me, they see joy. And that thrills me to my soul because that is what I want people to see in my life. Joy truly is a part of who I am, thanks so much to Jesus, and I want it to absolutely radiate from my life so that others can experience Him, too.

But I’m not always joyful inside. Sometimes it is when I am laughing the hardest that I am hurting the most.

I don’t think that dead men’s bones are supposed to be a part of our lives. Actually, I’m sure they’re not, being as they’re listed as a hypocritical flaw. But living without those destructive ghosts of the past would be so incredible…. I’m not sure if I can even imagine it. There would be such freedom. Relief. Healing. Wholeness. Genuine joy.

But how do I do away with those old bones? I have tried before and failed. Just when I think I have the bodies locked away in their caskets, the tops begin to creak open. And I can’t shut them all at once, no matter how hard I try. So the tops open wide, and the skeletons of my past arise more hideous than before.

There has to be a way to demolish these bones. And I know that there is. I know that I have to go to God; I know that I have to let go. So why do I cling to them? Why do I dwell on these miseries of my past? Is it because I like to feel ugly, worthless, and tarnished? Good heavens, no! Then why - - why when God is offering me new life - - do I cling to the old one?

Maybe it is because of shame. I know that those bones are part of who I once was and, try as I might to forget it, life won’t let me. A rift in a relationship, the hurt in someone’s eye, the innocent comment of a friend, the uprising of painfully well-known feelings, a cruel memory - - they all remind me that the effects of those once living bones reach far into my future. I look ahead and wonder if I can ever outlive or outgrow them. Painful reality tells me no.

I cannot do it on my own. God, maybe it’s time I really did let go. But how do I let go of the shame? I know that You have forgiven me, but can the others? Or will their looks and words torment me forever? God, how can I overcome the shame of life itself?

Dear God, please help. I’m ready to move on. I’m tired of being destroyed from the inside out. Please forgive me, God. Please forgive my wretchedness. “As far as the east is from the west….” Dear Lord, please take these dead men’s bones and bury them. Wipe away the shame that plagues me.

Dear Lord, I want to be free. I want to be clean. I want to be so full of You that there is no room for anything else. Please fill my mind and heart with good things; help me to dwell on You.

Dear God, please help me to let go.