This was written last December. I'm resurrecting it now, as I'm having some of the same emotions now that summer vacation is nearing its end. In a few weeks I'll be trading in my shorts for "business casual" and getting up at 5:30 again to go to work. I'm sure most of my readers will have no sympathy if I bemoan the return to work-a-day life, and really I'm not looking for any. What I am trying to do is psych myself up for another school year, and get back in the groove. I guess a little down time is useful for anyone, but I don't want to ever go on vacation from the Lord. He's just too important.
I knew I had hit bottom, as it were, over Christmas vacation, when I took sponge in hand and began cleaning out the refrigerator. This after sleeping late, breakfasting on a sumptuous meal prepared by my 18-year-old son, lunching at Dunkin’ Donuts, and rounding things out with a two-hour nap. I decided if I was to have even a shred of self-respect left at the end of my winter break, I must at least do a few household chores.
So, armed with basin, sponge and paper towels, I commenced scrubbing. And I do mean scrubbing. You need to know that this box hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned since … well, since the last time I did it. My initial plan was simply to tackle the remains of a gargantuan spill that had occurred around Thanksgiving (I had wiped up the worst of the mess when it happened, intending to give it more thorough attention when time allowed; funny thing is, time never did allow). In order to visualize the scene, you have to realize that my refrigerator door swings open 90 degrees and butts up against a wooden table ledge on which my computer keyboard rests. It’s complicated. Just take my word that it’s more trouble than it’s worth to manipulate the setup to open the door to its fullest extent, which would allow the removal of both veggie drawers. In this context, I pulled out one drawer completely, and the other to the fullest extent possible.
I realized quickly that the radius of my arm was inversely proportional to the amount of crud it had to reach. This led to a series of very creative positions in which I attempted to circumvent the part of the drawer that was stuck in position. Needless to say, the work was acrobatic and the end result, far less than perfect.
Clearly I had attempted this Herculean feat at least once since purchasing the appliance six years ago; that much was obvious from the remnants of baking soda accompanying the spill under the veggie drawers. (It hadn’t done the job, incidentally; the powder had morphed into mutant, snow-like clumps whose deodorizing properties had long since lost their battle against tuna, onion and ethnic holiday foods). In addition, I was dealing with some sort of sticky goo that had attached itself like fleas to a Saint Bernard. This job would require far longer than the ten minutes I had figured on.
The thing that annoyed me most was the way the task grew as I went along. Forty-five grueling minutes later, I was still scouring, hosing down, and complaining. The reason for the endlessness? Unforeseen complications. Everywhere I looked were disgusting memories of foods gone by. In this corner crumbs from our Christmas pie; in that cranny drops of dried milk stuck fast like chewing gum on a cold sidewalk. I even happened upon (those with weak stomachs, beware) a dead fly left over from our infestation last summer. The poor thing must have sought refuge from the swatter, only to meet a frigid end in our Arctic icebox. As a postscript, I must add that while fixing a snack later, I noted with chagrin that I had completely overlooked the cheese drawer! What this means is that more scrubbing awaits me even though I imagined my work was done.
Does any of this sound familiar? I would wager the vast majority of my readers have never found a fly belly up in their refrigerators. However, as Christians we must all be acquainted with the experience of frustrated cleansing efforts. How often have our attempts to beautify the externals been thwarted by the underlying problem of sin? We all try to look our best and talk a good Christian game, but doesn’t sin crop up anyway? Like the arcade game at the beach, when we take out one pop-up character with our mallet, two or three more show up immediately to take its place. This phenomenon is explained by Romans 7, in which Paul laments his inability to conquer sin in his life:
"I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin." (Romans 7:14-25)
Furthermore, no matter how “clean” we make ourselves, we can’t escape the fact that we are tainted by sin. Our cleansing efforts will always be insufficient to conquer the overall contamination that is our sin (Isaiah 64:6). The sin nature exists and has –no, had – a death grip on us until Christ applied His heavenly disinfectant once and for all (Romans 7:25).
One final note. I chose to throw out several items whose expiration dates had passed. This was hard for me, coming as I do from a frugal, Depression-era family which emphasized saving, storing and reusing. And truthfully, the foods still looked and smelled fine. Still, being a veteran of food poisoning, I trekked over to the trash can and wished them bon voyage. In like manner, we simply must realize that sin, no matter how appealing it may appear, can and will poison our walk with Christ until we ask Him to excise it.
For more like this, check out: Morsels for Meditation...: Trapped
I knew I had hit bottom, as it were, over Christmas vacation, when I took sponge in hand and began cleaning out the refrigerator. This after sleeping late, breakfasting on a sumptuous meal prepared by my 18-year-old son, lunching at Dunkin’ Donuts, and rounding things out with a two-hour nap. I decided if I was to have even a shred of self-respect left at the end of my winter break, I must at least do a few household chores.
So, armed with basin, sponge and paper towels, I commenced scrubbing. And I do mean scrubbing. You need to know that this box hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned since … well, since the last time I did it. My initial plan was simply to tackle the remains of a gargantuan spill that had occurred around Thanksgiving (I had wiped up the worst of the mess when it happened, intending to give it more thorough attention when time allowed; funny thing is, time never did allow). In order to visualize the scene, you have to realize that my refrigerator door swings open 90 degrees and butts up against a wooden table ledge on which my computer keyboard rests. It’s complicated. Just take my word that it’s more trouble than it’s worth to manipulate the setup to open the door to its fullest extent, which would allow the removal of both veggie drawers. In this context, I pulled out one drawer completely, and the other to the fullest extent possible.I realized quickly that the radius of my arm was inversely proportional to the amount of crud it had to reach. This led to a series of very creative positions in which I attempted to circumvent the part of the drawer that was stuck in position. Needless to say, the work was acrobatic and the end result, far less than perfect.
Clearly I had attempted this Herculean feat at least once since purchasing the appliance six years ago; that much was obvious from the remnants of baking soda accompanying the spill under the veggie drawers. (It hadn’t done the job, incidentally; the powder had morphed into mutant, snow-like clumps whose deodorizing properties had long since lost their battle against tuna, onion and ethnic holiday foods). In addition, I was dealing with some sort of sticky goo that had attached itself like fleas to a Saint Bernard. This job would require far longer than the ten minutes I had figured on.
The thing that annoyed me most was the way the task grew as I went along. Forty-five grueling minutes later, I was still scouring, hosing down, and complaining. The reason for the endlessness? Unforeseen complications. Everywhere I looked were disgusting memories of foods gone by. In this corner crumbs from our Christmas pie; in that cranny drops of dried milk stuck fast like chewing gum on a cold sidewalk. I even happened upon (those with weak stomachs, beware) a dead fly left over from our infestation last summer. The poor thing must have sought refuge from the swatter, only to meet a frigid end in our Arctic icebox. As a postscript, I must add that while fixing a snack later, I noted with chagrin that I had completely overlooked the cheese drawer! What this means is that more scrubbing awaits me even though I imagined my work was done.Does any of this sound familiar? I would wager the vast majority of my readers have never found a fly belly up in their refrigerators. However, as Christians we must all be acquainted with the experience of frustrated cleansing efforts. How often have our attempts to beautify the externals been thwarted by the underlying problem of sin? We all try to look our best and talk a good Christian game, but doesn’t sin crop up anyway? Like the arcade game at the beach, when we take out one pop-up character with our mallet, two or three more show up immediately to take its place. This phenomenon is explained by Romans 7, in which Paul laments his inability to conquer sin in his life:
"I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin." (Romans 7:14-25)
Furthermore, no matter how “clean” we make ourselves, we can’t escape the fact that we are tainted by sin. Our cleansing efforts will always be insufficient to conquer the overall contamination that is our sin (Isaiah 64:6). The sin nature exists and has –no, had – a death grip on us until Christ applied His heavenly disinfectant once and for all (Romans 7:25).
One final note. I chose to throw out several items whose expiration dates had passed. This was hard for me, coming as I do from a frugal, Depression-era family which emphasized saving, storing and reusing. And truthfully, the foods still looked and smelled fine. Still, being a veteran of food poisoning, I trekked over to the trash can and wished them bon voyage. In like manner, we simply must realize that sin, no matter how appealing it may appear, can and will poison our walk with Christ until we ask Him to excise it.
For more like this, check out: Morsels for Meditation...: Trapped
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