I will never forget June Day. June Day was a girl in our class in Junior High School who was always called upon to stand at the board and take names in case any of us acted up while the teacher went out to that strange, mysterious place called the faculty lounge. Basically, the teacher couldn't take anymore and needed a break. And June Day was called upon to police the room. I must admit that during those days I did not like June Day because June invariably wrote my name on the board. But one day when the teacher went out and June stood, with chalk in hand, eyes scanning the class for any signs of misbehavior, the class could take no more of June. The class erupted into a giant spitball arena. It was absolute anarchy. Suddenly, June got hit-right in the face. There was silence. We wondered what would happen. June put down her chalk, bent over, got the spitball, and threw it back. She was a part of the anarchy! June Day was not perfect! She could not keep up her veneer of perfection. She was a party to the crime. It was then, as June's arm was cocked back ready to sail another projectile through the class, that our teacher returned. "June! What are you doing?" I forgot to tell you that the teacher was her mother. But poor old June Day met her match, and she just couldn't keep up her image of being perfect.

And you know what? Neither can you. None of us can. We cannot come to God based on our righteousness. Do you know what God calls it? He says our righteousness before Him is like filthy rags. So what do we do? We divest ourselves of such an idea. It is unbelief and it is a sin against Christ and His blood shed for sinners. We come to Jesus, just as we are, without one plea and cry out to Him. It's called repentance.