If you have ever traveled internationally, you have had the joy of going through customs. It is such a thrill to have someone go through your things--including your dirty underwear. I always wonder if the immigration people become like doctors, and think if you have seen one-you have seen them all. My OCD pops up during those sessions of pawing through my bag. I have everything neat and tidy and do not take kindly to someone messing it all up. What in the world could be interesting in my black bag? Can't they look at me and tell they should just pass?
There are some real characters traveling these days. As I see them grabbing their bags, I wonder, what do you have in there. Secrets--contraband---mysterious items---are you hiding anything in there? If I looked at your bag, what would it say about your life? Would you be in a panic if your bag broke open and we all got a look? We have all seen those bags which have broken and come limping down the belt with stuff hanging out.
Our life can be like a black bag. We all line up in physical bodies of different sizes, shapes and colors, but your life is all in the bag. What would your reaction be if your bag popped open and we could all see what you are carrying around? Are you an open book, with no secrets to hide? If someone searched the baggage you are dragging along, what would they think?
We may be able to conceal our stuff in the baggage we are carrying, but God is the immigration inspector. Someday when we make that final trip, he will open our bag before us and remind us of what we thought was important and drug along every step of the way. How will I feel when He reminds me of the stuff I drug along--weighing me down--of no importance? Thinking---Lord, I am thinking--about my black bag.
For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.
II Corinthians 5:10