08/19/2026
CREATE IN ME A CLEAN HEART
“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10
When I first saw this old 1980 F-350, I didn't see what everybody else probably saw.
I mean, I DID see it. 😂
I saw the rust.
I saw the weeds growing through and around it.
I saw the tree that had apparently decided the front bumper was prime real estate.
I saw the faded paint, the crusty engine, the old bucket lift, the questionable wiring and 46 years' worth of dirt.
But I also saw what it could be.
Before that truck ever came out from behind that bumper tree, I'd already decided something:
I wanted it.
For $300, I knew I could use it. I knew what I could do with the utility bed. I knew I could use the truck for work, and even if some of the equipment wasn't useful to me, I could sell or scrap it to help pay for the project.
But there was one thing I needed to know before I started putting time and money into everything else.
I needed to test the heart.
On a truck, that's the engine.
And here's the part that has been preaching to me throughout this whole project:
I tested the heart while the truck was still dirty.
I didn't tell that old Ford, “Clean yourself up first, then I'll see if you're worth my time.”
I didn't demand fresh paint.
I didn't make it get rid of the rust.
I didn't require it to straighten its dents, replace its rotten hoses, fix its wiring or scrub 46 years of grime off itself before I'd call it mine.
I called it mine while it was still sitting in the weeds.
Then I brought it home and tested the heart.
I replaced what I needed to replace just to see what I had. I cleaned the old varnish out of the carburetor, supplied it with some fuel, gave it what it needed...
And that old 300 straight-six fired.
It wasn't pretty.
It wasn't finished.
It wasn't restored.
But there was life in it.
And once I knew the heart was alive, the work really began.
That's where this old truck started reminding me of something much bigger than an engine.
Sometimes we get Christianity backwards.
We think we need to clean ourselves up enough for God to want us.
Get rid of this sin first.
Break that habit first.
Fix the marriage.
Fix the attitude.
Get our life together.
Become respectable.
Then maybe we can come to Christ.
But that's not the Gospel.
“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” — Romans 5:8
While we were yet sinners.
Not once the paint was fresh.
Not once the leaks stopped.
Not once every broken part had been replaced.
Not once everything underneath the hood looked respectable.
While we were still dirty.
Now obviously, I'm not Jesus, and this old Ford isn't a person. 😂 The comparison only goes so far.
But working on it has given me a picture I can't get out of my head.
I didn't clean this engine so that I could finally decide whether I wanted the truck.
I cleaned it because I'd already decided it was mine.
There's a BIG difference.
And salvation works from that direction too.
We aren't saved because we successfully restored ourselves.
We are saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ.
“For by grace are ye saved through faith… not of works, lest any man should boast.” — Ephesians 2:8–9
But when God saves us, He doesn't intend to leave us exactly where He found us.
David prayed:
“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10
And that's where these pictures really hit me.
The engine is the heart of this truck.
When I first opened that hood, it was filthy.
Old oil.
Sludge.
Rust.
Dirt.
Peeling paint.
Crusty hardware.
Old hoses.
Parts that hadn't been touched in who knows how many years.
But underneath all of it...
the heart still had life.
So I've been working on it.
Not because I'm trying to turn it back into exactly what rolled off Ford's assembly line in 1980.
I'm actually not doing a 100% factory restoration.
Some original parts are staying.
Some are being cleaned and reused.
Some things are getting replaced.
Some things are getting modified.
I'm polishing the original steel covers instead of replacing them with chrome. I'm changing things to fit how I intend to use the truck. I'm making decisions based on what this truck needs to become useful again.
I'm not trying to make it exactly what it was.
I'm making it into what I need it to be.
And there's another sermon in that.
When God begins changing us, His goal isn't simply to restore us to some previous version of ourselves.
He makes us new.
“Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” — 2 Corinthians 5:17
Some things have to come off.
Some things have to be cleaned.
Some things can be redeemed and put back into service.
And some things have no business going back on at all.
I've removed unnecessary wiring.
I've scraped away grime.
I've cleaned gasket surfaces.
I've replaced corroded parts.
I've replaced crusty hardware.
I've cleaned and painted the block.
I've polished old steel.
I've replaced things that would have caused trouble later.
And I'm still not finished.
There's still an oil pan to drop and clean.
There's still sludge hiding where I can't see it.
There are still hoses to replace, fluids to fill, timing to set and plenty more work waiting beyond the engine.
Sound familiar?
God can change a lot in us, and there can still be places underneath that need attention.
Places nobody sees from the outside.
Things accumulated over years.
Old bitterness.
Pride.
Anger.
Fear.
Habits.
Wounds.
Things that restrict us spiritually just like sludge collecting around an oil pickup can eventually starve an engine of what it needs to live.
That's why David didn't pray, “Lord, make the outside of me look better.”
He said:
“Create in me a clean HEART.”
Start where it matters.
And once the heart belongs to Him, let Him work outward from there.
This truck has a LONG way to go.
The engine isn't finished.
The suspension needs attention.
The body needs work.
There are dents to straighten, rust to repair and eventually a whole lot more cleaning and painting.
But none of those unfinished things change one fact:
It's already mine.
It didn't become mine when I painted the engine Ford blue.
It didn't become mine when I polished the valve cover.
It won't finally become mine when the body is straight or the paint shines.
I called it mine when it was still sprouting a bumper tree.
Everything happening now is happening to something that already belongs to me.
And THAT may be the biggest thing this $300 Ford has taught me yet.
For those who belong to Christ, we're not working so that someday God might finally look at us and say,
“Okay. You're clean enough now. I'll take you.”
No.
He calls us.
He saves us.
He makes us His.
Then He begins the work.
And thank God He doesn't throw us away because the project isn't finished yet.
“Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.” — Philippians 1:6
I'm not finished with this old Ford.
And God's not finished with me either.
There are still some dirty places.
Still some worn-out parts.
Still some things that need removed.
Still some things that need renewed.
But the heart is alive.
The work has begun.
And little by little, one piece at a time...
He's making all things new. 🔧🙏
