Tip of My Iceberg

We got a certified letter the other day.

I cringed.

It wasn’t a life or death issue. I knew who it was from. Hence the cringing.

It was from our HOA.

At varying times, hearing from them strikes concern or annoyance in my inner being. This is obviously not a first time occasion. Long ago I discarded the known moniker of Home Owners’ Association. They’ve been forever–in my head–Hovers Over All with a Horrendous Oversight of Annoyance.

John and I joke about them. We’ve been called on the carpet for having our swing set visible from the street, for a cement bench in our front yard (put there by friends of our kids–the HOA seemed to believe our norm was to steal three-ton cement benches from the green area to adorn our home), and for our street numbers falling off the house.

Justifiable concerns.

This time it had to do with mold on our house. I was perturbed because we’ve been gone all summer, and it’s been a particularly hot and wet summer.

OK, so the problem began to exist before we left. But really. Couldn’t they understand that we’re doing the best we can? And time and money would be allotted to the necessary work projects as they came up?

Actually, no. They don’t understand. As John has reminded me time and again, they are an organization that has rules they must hold to for the good of the subdivision. Because of the diligence of their oversight, we’ve got a beautiful neighborhood. Most of the time I whole-heartedly agree with their regulations.

Until they affect my life.

Consequences resulted. As they always do. We spent a greater part of the weekend pressure washing house and drive.

The heat index was over 100.

This is challenge of living where uniformity is a plus and a pain in the neighborhoods. People at times need to be encouraged to care about their houses and yards. No eye sores allowed.

It makes me grateful that God doesn’t deal with me like an HOA.

Yes, He has set rules for us living in His world. There are absolute truths and values that must be acknowledged. It’s how we’re able to live together even with our differences. And there are rules that will get us into heaven as well. No guess work involved.

We have to be perfect.

Many don’t acknowledge or follow those rules. And none of us is perfect.

But God didn’t leave us at the mercy of an uncaring heavenly HOA. He made it possible for us to know we’d be with Him by sending Jesus to pay the price for our wrongdoings. He took our consequences on Himself.

It doesn’t give me carte blanche to act any way I like. He lives in me which gives me a strength beyond myself to make right choices.

But I blow it. Regularly. Yet His grace is sufficient for all the wrong things I continue to do.

Because I’ve asked Him to pay my debt–my HOA fees, so to speak–I’m guaranteed heaven.

I can live with His rules.

God’s my Heavenly Oversight Advisor.