I walk into the room, and there are no paintings on the walls … not even paint on the walls.

It is completely white. Completely clean. 

I see a desk, like the ones we used to occupy in younger days at school. On it are some materials: a piece of chalk and a clean slate.  There is also a pen and paper, and paint with some brushes. 

At first, I look around to see if this is some sort of trick. Why am I given this opportunity to step into a room and create something from scratch? Does the One who brought me here not remember what I did the last time? Does He not remember the mess I made on the walls and the way I broke the slate out of frustration?  

As soon as these thoughts pass through my mind, they disappear. I try to hold onto  them — mulling over my past blunders — but I cannot seem to maintain a grasp while I am in this room. There is something so special about it. I feel an urgency to sit down at the desk and pick up the chalk.  

This desk, that seems built for a third-grade version of myself, somehow holds me  perfectly. So, I sit with an excitement that I am still unsure of, and I look at the materials given me. I do not understand … there is normally a sense of fear when I am presented with an opportunity to make something new. To start again. It is gone. I look around to somehow locate the fear that has always accompanied me in these situations, but it is not here.  

Only an overwhelming hope. 

I take in a deep breath and pick up the clean slate. Holding slate and chalk in hands I hear a Voice in my heart: 

“Write, beloved. It is a day of new beginnings. The old has gone, and the new has come. But it is up to you. I will not paint these walls with your past failures. I will not hang  artwork of your sin and weaknesses, decorating your tomorrows with your yesterdays. That is what you have done in the past, dear one, but I plead with you to start over … again.  Write and re-write. The choice is yours.” 

With a profound sense of joy and hope I begin to write. 

He offers a clean slate, a new day, to all who will believe, but the choice is yours.  I encourage you to find the hope of the clean slate … and the joy of the re-write. 

Amanda Conn has been a member of The River Church of God for more than 20 years, involved in several different ministries. She also works at Industrial Rental in Guntersville. She is the wife of Jeff Conn and mother to Jayden and Avery.

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