A Road Through the Sea

"Your road led through the sea, your pathway through the mighty waters-a pathway no one knew was there!"

Psalms 77:19

This verse takes me back to the Israelites being confronted by the Red Sea before them and the Egyptian army behind them.  I have no doubt that they were terrified, feeling hopeless, despair ripping through their chest.  So many questions must have raced through their frightened minds.  So much confusion...wasn't it God who had delivered them?  Why would He take them out of a bad situation only to make things worse?  Why would He give them a taste of freedom only to allow it to be ripped away? 

"Why did you bring us out here to die in the wilderness?"
Exodus 14:10

Before the Lord parted the Red Sea, He gives His people some instructions:

"Don't be afraid.  Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today.  The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again.  The Lord Himself will fight for you.  Just stay calm."
Exodus 14:13-14

God told them:
1.  Don't be afraid.
2.  Stand Still.
3.  Stay calm.

These are the absolute hardest things to do when you are in the midst of a desperate situation.

Don't be afraid?  They were TERRIFIED, and had every right to be.  They were facing their own demise and staring death in the face!

Stand still?  The Egyptian army was chasing them and they were about to die with absolutely no way out.  There was a literal OCEAN in front of them.  Every instinct was probably telling them to RUN.

Stay calm?  Are you kidding me?  Who is able to stay calm as you stand there with your family, knowing death is upon all of you? 

This was clearly no easy task.  Having no fear, standing still, and being calm goes against every instinct, defies logic, and almost seems foolish when you contemplate the circumstances.

But God.

God provided a way.  A very unexpected way that no one knew was there.  He parted waters and allowed the Israelites to walk through dry land.  God's road led through the sea, through treacherous waters, and they were victorious.

A pathway no one knew was there.
Through mighty waters.
A road through the sea.

God still does this for us.  He makes pathways in unexpected places.  He provides a way where there is no way.  He provides the path through mighty, treacherous waters, leading the way the whole time.  And he commands to not be afraid, stand still, and stay calm.

Will you trust Him with me?

Lord, give me eyes to see the pathways when things look impossible, when despair overtakes my soul.  you are not the bridge over troubled waters, but the path straight through it.

Calm in the Storm

Last year, Hurricane Maria battered Puerto Rico with an unforgiving vengeance.  This storm caused so much destruction, and many people lost their belongings, homes, and livelihood.  I saw image after image of places dear to my heart that were almost unrecognizable.  My family was without power for many months, and resources were scarce.  The island is starting to bounce back from this terrible storm, but they still have a long way to go.  I remember being so scared for my family living there, knowing the coming storm would likely cause damage and destruction.

The storms of life have battered my soul, and life has never been the same.  Life came in like a hurricane, tearing apart things near and dear.  It's hard to bounce back from storms like that, and even harder to remain calm through it all.

Lately, many of the devotionals, verses, and songs I've meditated on have 1 common thread among them:  staying calm in the middle of the storm.  It sounds good in theory, but it is so hard in practice.  I get caught up in what I see and have a hard time looking beyond my circumstances.

In Matthew 8:23-27, Jesus and the disciples are traveling via boat when they encountered a terrible storm.  The disciples were absolutely terrified.  Where was Jesus in the midst of it all?  Sleeping.  The disciples frantically woke him up, begging him to save them...they thought they were going to drown and die.

Jesus responded:

"Why are you afraid?  You have so little faith!"

He then calmed the storm.

Something sticks out to me about this whole scenario.  The disciples didn't believe Jesus wouldn't do anything.  In fact, they ran to the One who could, begging Jesus to please save them.  They KNEW Jesus could take them out of this terrible situation in the midst of imminent danger.

I believe the rebuke came because they were afraid.  They were frantic.  Even with the knowledge that Jesus would save them, they were still consumed with fear, quite possibly because they knew what a storm like this was capable of.  Fear was costing them their peace.  While they believed God would save them, maybe they had little faith that He would truly work it all for good, no matter the means that He chose to save them.  The fear was fear of suffering...they were counting the cost.

I can certainly relate to this.  The past few years, I have chosen to run to Jesus, knowing He could (and would) calm the storm battering my life.  Even so, I was afraid.  God has come through, but it has been in ways I never anticipated, ways I probably wouldn't have chosen.  Fear and lack of faith has cost me my peace, my joy, even my health at times.

Jesus was a glowing example of what we should look like in the storm.  Calm, peaceful, choosing not to focus on the circumstances. I yearn to have this type of quiet faith.  Does this mean that if I have faith, everything will be exactly as I hoped and want?  Nope.  It does mean that no matter what happens, no matter how much damage a storm may cause, I can have peace.  I can choose to see the storm as an opportunity for growth, a chance for God to show me just how faithful He is.
  Jesus has continued to calm the storms in my life, often with the reminder that I don't need to be afraid.

He is there.  Sometimes sleeping, but never unaware and always in control, offering me a peace that surpasses all understanding.

The Prescribed Burn

Fire can be so destructive.  One of the very first lessons I taught my sons when they were learning to walk was to not touch the stove or oven.  I would repeat the word "hot" as I guided them away from this appliance that, if touched while in use, would cause pain, a possible burn, and a frazzled mom.  I taught them very early on that we should stay a safe distance from fire and be extremely cautious around one.  Undoubtedly, we all learned this growing up.  Fire is dangerous, fire is hot, fire can cause damage and pain.  For the most part, this is the absolute truth.
This summer I traveled to California.  I checked off several things I wanted to do, among them visiting the majestic redwoods.  I cannot adequately describe the beauty of these trees, many of them hundreds of years old.  I was in awe as I walked through the quiet, still forest, taking in the beauty of these towering trunks.  My eyes kept looking up, searching for the tops of what seemed like never ending bark, branches, and leaves.  I felt so small as I hiked through this peaceful landscape.
Many of the trees had lots of scarring from what appeared to be burn marks.  Burn scarring indicates fire activity, and I was curious.  I was standing in acres of trees; why were there burn marks on these redwoods, and how was it possible that the forest was still intact after a fire?
After speaking to a park ranger, I learned that "prescribed burns" were conducted periodically to benefit the long-term health of the trees.  These forest fires were conducted in a controlled setting, with supervision from professionals there to make sure it doesn't get out of control.  Fire clears the duff-decaying leaves and branches covering the forest floor- which prevents redwood seeds from reaching the mineral soil.  The fires serve to destroy the bacteria and fungi that can kill the seeds before they have a chance to germinate.  The debris turns to ash, the fire recycles nutrients and enhances the wildlife forage.  Fire, something so seemingly destructive and dangerous, is actually a very important part of the redwood ecosystem. Without these fires, there would be very little new growth, and the overall health of the forest would be in jeopardy.
Somewhere along the way, I learned that all trials, suffering, and "fiery moments" in my life were bad and destructive.  I avoided pain and suffering at all cost and did not take any risks that could potentially lead to less than ideal circumstances.  The pain of these moments blinded me from seeing the good that could come from clearing the duff of my soul. 
Perhaps some fires in our lives are not by happenstance, but are meant to clear the debris that is preventing new growth in our lives.  Sometimes new, healthy growth means something within us must die.

"He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn't produce fruit, and He prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more."

John 15:2

Hey there, soul?  This trial you are facing, this fire burning within you that looks out of control, seems like it is causing so much destruction, causing burn scarring on your heart?  God's got this.  This prescribed burn in your life is not meant to destroy you, but to generate something new within you.  Pain and suffering is a necessary part of your journey.  It is how you grow.  It's how you produce faith.  It is a pathway to the life of freedom God intended you to live.  It is meant to grow your dependence on Him.  When the smoke settles after the fire, you will see.  What you thought was meant to harm you, God intended it all for good (Gen. 50:20)
Surrender to the fire burning within.  Feel the burn.  Great things are ahead.

"So be truly glad.  There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while.  These trials will show that your faith is genuine.  It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold-though your faith is far more precious than mere gold.  So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world."

I Peter 1:6-7

Unwrap Your [Own] Gifts

Mornings in our house are a little bit stressful.  A particular four year old in my house cries every.  Single.  Morning.  It's as though the act of being awake is just too much.  Mornings usually go like this:

Me:  Linc, what do you want for breakfast?
Lincoln: I SAID I WANT PANCAKES!!!!
I take a deep breath and ignore the tone; pop some pancakes in the microwave, cut them into 8 even pieces, pour syrup and place the hot plate in front of him.
Me:   Here are your pancakes.
Lincoln:  (starts uncontrollably crying) YOU DIDN'T PUT SYRUP ON THIS PIECE!  I WANTED TO CUT THE PANCAKES! IT'S TOO HOT!  WHERE'S MY CHOCOLATE MILK?! I WANT TO POUR THE CHOCOLATE! I DON'T WANT TO WATCH CURIOUS GEORGE, I WANT TO WATCH PAW PATROL!  MY PANCAKES ARE COLD!
Me:  Jesus be the fence.

These morning shenanigans are a daily part of our routine, and two years ago, Christmas morning was no exception.  I anticipated Christmas that year since the boys were older and understanding what all the hoopla is about.  I was eager for the boys to open their gifts that I specifically chose for each of them.  I bought a microphone for Lincoln and I knew he was going to love it. Many evenings, he will stand on the couch or a chair, sing on the top of his lungs into a toothbrush or action figure, and put on a show for us.  I just knew this microphone was the perfect gift.

Ruly was the first one up.  He excitedly came into my room and said he was ready to see what was under the tree.  Not wanting Lincoln to miss the excitement, I went to his room to wake him up.

Big mistake.

Of course, in true Lincoln fashion, he cried as Ruly opened presents and refused to open his own.  He cried because he wanted Ruly's toys and attempted to snatch his Mission Chase dog.  I handed him one of his packages and it just made him sob even more.  He did not want to be awake, and he did not want his own gifts.  He wanted his brother's gifts.

I thought to myself, "If he would stop whining long enough to open his own gifts, he will have such a great time playing with his things."

Sometimes I act more like Lincoln than I am willing to admit.  I want God's best and I want his blessings. I've asked God to use me for His glory.  If I'm honest, however, I am really asking God to bless me in particular ways, ways that I think are better than what He has for me.  I have an idea of how I want Him to use me.  There are times I shift my eyes around and get caught up hoping I had a gift that someone else has.  I get caught up in the "I wish" game.

I wish I could sing like that.
I wish I had a nice house like hers.
I wish I was a better writer like him so I could write a book.
I wish I was a witty communicator like that public speaker.
I wish I could captivate every room I walked in like she does.
I wish I could speak with that kind of authority.
I wish.

I am so blinded with envy of the gifts God has given others that I fail to unwrap the gifts He picked out specifically for me. I picture Him sitting on His throne, watching me whine about the gifts others have and all the while He is rolling his eyes saying, "JUST OPEN YOUR OWN GIFTS.  You are going to love them." These boxes become unwrapped potential.  They become a symbol of my rejection of God's unmerited favor towards me.

"In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well..." Romans 12:6  

When I am finally done operating in envy and playing the "I wish" game and open my own gifts, I am pleasantly surprised.  God tailored these gifts specifically for me, and their purpose are to bring Him glory...the very thing my heart desires.

God has used my gift of empathy to comfort and cry with a grieving friend that just lost their spouse.  Possessing the gift of being a witty communicator would not have been useful.  This gift was made for moments like these.

I have used my gift of hospitality to invite strangers into my home to connect them with community.  I did not need a "nicer" house or sing like Ariana Grande to do this. 

God has shown me how my gift of teaching is operating through the lives of my boys as I heard Lincoln tell Ruly that he didn't have to be afraid because Jesus was with him.  God used me without having to captivate rooms.

God knows us so well.  He made us and knew us before we were born.  He gives us specific gifts based on this knowledge.  It is up to us to stop pouting and unwrap our OWN gifts.

Lincoln eventually opened his presents (after a short time out).  Just as I predicted, he loved his gifts.  Especially his microphone.  It became

a favorite at our house.  I smile with satisfaction when I hear him belt out songs with his microphone because I know I chose the perfect gift for him.

I can't help but think that God does the same when we unwrap our own gifts.  

The Story I Never Thought Would Be Mine

There has been a lot of talk around me in the past few years about sharing your "story", particularly as it pertains to your life before Christ and after Christ.  If I am honest, I have always avoided sharing my story because I felt like there wasn't much to tell.

I was raised in a christian home.
I can't quite remember an isolated day or time when I made a solid decision to follow Christ, but I have always believed.
I have lived my life in pursuit of Him.
The end.

See what I mean?   If you were expecting a "Saul-to-Paul" experience, you would not find it here.

In October 2015, I attended The Gather Project, a gathering of local woman in pursuit of Jesus, worship, and community.  It was a beautiful night of authentic worship and I heard heartfelt testimonies of women that had said "Here I am Lord.  I want You...nothing more, nothing less."  One speaker in particular resonated heavily with me.  She told God that she wanted more Jesus, no matter what that entailed.  What happened afterwards was a series of events that she did not expect, but God used that very thing to grow her dependence on Him.  Her story changed my life in ways she will never know.

The next morning during my quiet time, I wrote this in my journal:

10-9-2015
I am a wreck this morning.  Last night was a beautiful night of worship and community.  I walked away as if it were just another service, but this morning I can't stop thinking of the topic:  Say yes to Jesus.  
As I reflect on the stories I heard and I read about Jesus washing the disciples' feet, something is clicking and stirring within me.  Jesus, Son of GOD, had no problem getting in the lowliest position of servant because he knew who he was and whose he was.  He exemplified that greatness in God comes in the form of humility.  The women last night had prayed to live radically for Christ and then found their "greatness" in ways they did not expect, sometimes bringing discomfort and suffering with it.
I have been so wrapped up in trying to figure out what great thing(s) I can do for Jesus that I forgot that this greatness will come in form of humbling myself to the lowliest place.  My greatness may be found in something I may not want to do because it will be uncomfortable, scary, and hard work.
I don't know what my "greatness" will look like.  But I know one thing:  I want Jesus.  I want His desires.  I want to withhold nothing, just as Jesus withheld nothing on earth. 
I am ready to die to the desires of this life.  I want Jesus.  I want that greatness, and I am ready for that position of humility before Him.  I want to say "yes".  
Walk me through this, Lord.

God was preparing my heart to accept the path I would find almost a year later.

On New Year's Eve, just a few months later, I was reflecting on the past year and thinking about what 2016 would look like.  I thought about a book that had been sitting on my shelf for almost 6 months that I was quite frankly terrified to read:  Anything by Jennie Allen.  The book is all about saying "God, I will do anything, whatever that means, whatever that brings.  I want Jesus."  I adopt a theme every year, and I felt a pull in my heart to make 2016 my year of "Anything".  I reflected in my journal:

Moving forward in 2016, I have adopted a theme.  This one scares me.
I am going to read "Anything" by Jennie Allen.  And that is my hope for 2016.
Anything.
God, I will do anything.
This prayer is frightening.  I think of a Bible study I did 2 years ago that posed the question...Can you trust a God that may allow you to suffer?
It is frightening.
But...I am ready.  Even if I am not, I choose to jump in with both feet.
Anything.

I knew that praying that prayer would put things in motion that may be surprising.  I knew that God would answer some of the questions I had been battling for 2 years:
God, are you really enough?
Are you really, truly "good"?
Are you real?
As I reflected back in my journals of 2014-2015, it was evident that God was preparing me for something, I was just unsure of what it was.

If I am honest, I thought God would call my husband and I into the ministry, probably uprooting our family to a mission field somewhere.  I thought that would be worst case scenario.

As I read the book, I had to answer a question...What is holding you back from fully following God's will?  What fear are you battling?

I had to identify, write down, and release my fear to God:  I was afraid of suffering.  I was afraid that the cost of "Anything" would be a price I did not want to pay.  I was afraid that I would experience loss and pain.

God continued to prepare my heart for the hardest moments of my life.

That year brought the absolute last thing I would have ever imagined and the most devastating thing I have walked through:  A separation from my husband of 11 years and a painful divorce the following year.

If you had asked me to identify the last thing I thought I would have to worry about, divorce would have been at the very top of my list.  We were christians.  We had dated for 4 years before marrying and had done everything "right".  We came from good families, had 2 beautiful boys, were very active in our church and our community, and even spoke at marriage conferences.  We led a small group in our home, and friends often confided in us seeking advice for their own marriages.  I thought we had a solid relationship.  I respected my husband and saw serving him as a way of serving God as well.  Divorce didn't happen to people like me.

Until it did.  The fact that I had followed Jesus, lived my life for Him, and tried to serve Him faithfully did not save me from the pain of divorce.

The details surrounding my divorce are not important.  What is important is that God used the very thing I thought would destroy me to teach me so many things about His character, His provision, and His comfort.

This journey brought the very things I had feared the most and forced me to confront head-on:  Suffering.  Incredible pain.  Loss.  In a few short moments, I had lost my husband, the life that I had known, the future I thought I would have.  I spent many moments crying, asking God to please take the pain away.  I begged God to restore my marriage.  I became a shell of my former self and was consumed by my situation.  I even remember running into a friend at Target and bawling in the middle of the dollar section at the front of the store when she asked me how I was.  I had never endured this type of heartache or rejection.  The pain was so palpable some nights that I thought I could almost reach out and touch it.

Even in spite of the ache I felt, I remembered that prayer in the beginning of 2016 and the promise I had made.  I had said "Anything", no matter what, I was going to follow God.  This was when I would prove that I really believed all of the things I boldly proclaimed in the light.  I decided that , like Job, I would hope in Him, even though my life was falling apart.  I would rejoice in the God of my salvation, because the fact that I get to serve God is reason enough to rejoice.  Even when it felt impossible, I would hope in Him and choose to believe God would use even this for my good.

I spent many days bawling on the floor of my closet demanding "Why, God?", but I chose to remain faithful and ran to the One that could change my circumstances...but even if He didn't, I was going to stay true to Him.  I decided to praise the Lord through those weak moments.  On those days when I couldn't even pull myself out of bed, His love drew me near and I found my comfort in Him.

What I discovered is that, while I don't believe God caused my divorce, He used the most painful moment of my life as the very foundation that grew my dependence on Him.  I had walked the darkest valley, but I had not done it alone; God had been there the whole time.
 He used these moments to show me that He is truly enough, because He had to be.
He IS good, even when life is not.
He is real...I know that because my life, my healing, my peace reflects something that can only be found in the Creator of the Universe.

My "Anything" was leaning into the pain and allowing God to use it to make something beautiful.  My "Anything" was learning to trust God, put my faith in Him, and completely surrender my whole life to a path I hadn't anticipated.  My "yes" to Jesus made my deepest pain become my greatest joy that only comes from finding my worth and value in Christ; not in man, not in a husband, not in a title or role.

I certainly have more of a story to share now.  And there is so much more to be written.

"Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the field lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord!  I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!"

Habakkuk 3:17-18

My Hands Are Full

If you have an active child, and especially if you have more than one, you have undoubtedly heard the phrase, "Your hands are full!"  I am never quite sure how to take this type of comment.  Is the commentator trying to make me feel better during that awkward moment my kid acts like his legs are made of Jello when I tell him he has to sit in the buggy at Wal-Mart? Is it a subtle way of telling me to get my boys under control?  Are they trying to make friendly conversation and feel they can only accomplish this by pointing out the obvious?  I'm never sure if a grunt, chuckle, or swift kick in the shin is in order.  Usually I just nod, smile through my frustration, and say, "Yep."

Last week as I stood in the check out line at Publix, my boys were acting "normal": touching all the candy close to the register, shoving each other out of the way, trying to escape and run out the doors into the parking lot.  You know, just your average trip to the grocery store.  The lady at the register smiled at me and said, "Whew, your hands are full!" I gave her a half-smile and nodded.  Something about the way she said it, however, made it seem different.  She did not say it in a condescending manner; she said it almost as though having your hands full were a good thing.

As I carried my boys to the car in a cart full of groceries and strapped them into their car seats, I realized my hands ARE full.

My hands are full of opportunities to teach my boys how to be disciples for Jesus and teach them how to be more like Him.  Every fight between brothers is a chance to teach repentance and forgiveness.  Every time they do something wrong is an opportunity to demonstrate unconditional love, the same way God loves us.  Every day is a new moment to let them see Jesus in me through my actions, reactions, and the way I love others.

My hands are full of love.  Not the mushy-gushy kind that makes my heart flutter, but the kind that takes hard work as outlined in I Corinthians 13: love is patient and kind, not jealous or boastful or rude; it does not demand its own way, it is not irritable and keeps no record of wrongs; it does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices in the truth; it never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and always endures; it lasts forever. The Lord has taught me so much about how he loves me through the way I love my children.  It is unconditional, and I would kill tigers for them.

My hands are full of life lessons that I have learned exclusively through being Ruly and Lincoln's mom.  God has given me a way of developing the fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control through motherhood.   It is almost as though God gave me these two special treasures to mold me into a better vessel for His glory.  Being a mom has given me a platform for living out His commandments and His Word.  Every day and every moment brings with it the gift of a new lesson that shapes me into a better person.

My hands are full of priceless moments that I will carry in my heart forever.  Joyful memories like watching my boys shriek with laughter the first time they splashed in the waves at the beach in Destin.  Feeling the warmth of Ruly's newborn goodness on my belly immediately following his birth and the overwhelming wave of emotions that followed.  Hearing Lincoln say "I love you" for the first time.  Sometimes I feel like Mary, taking in the events after giving birth to Jesus, and how she "kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often." (Luke 2:19).  Even on my darkest days, I can look down at my hands and feel the fullness of these precious moments.

My hands are full of hopes and dreams for my boys.  I pray daily that God give me discernment and wisdom so I can raise them to be mighty men of valor.  I envision men that will walk boldly in God's path all of the days of their life.  I pray they develop their gifts and talents so they can use them for His kingdom.  I dream of courageous men that will stay connected to the true Vine and produce good fruit through His pruning (John 15).

My hands are full of fleeting moments that pass like sand dripping through a tight fist.  This is a short season.  I only have a limited time to nurture them, hug and smother them with kisses, and laugh hysterically at their potty jokes.  There will come a time that I will no longer tuck their sweetness into bed or read them "If You Give a Mouse A Cookie" for the 100th time.  Soon they will be too heavy for me to pick up when they aim their little arms towards me and say, "Hold you, mommy."  Very close in the future, they will no longer ask me to play trucks with them or pretend to eat a special meal they have "cooked" for me out of play dough. This time period will be gone before I know it and I should seize each moment, both good or frustrating, because I will long for these moments in the future. May this season "teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom." (Psalms 90:12)

My hands are full...and that is a good thing.

What's in Your Pantry?

I try my hardest to keep our kitchen clean, but this is a difficult task with two active boys in my house.  I sweep 1-2 times a day, and it always looks like I'm cleaning up after a fraternity party.  I try to do a deep cleaning a few times a month, but let's face it; there are far more pressing issues to take care of than organizing shelves, polishing nooks and crannies, and emptying out the pantry.  Most of the time a "maintenance clean" is about all I can handle.  My mom calls this "cleaning your face but leaving your bottom dirty". (Have you met my mother?  She is pretty hilarious.)

A few weeks (cough, ahem, MONTHS) had passed since I cleaned out my pantry.  Who has the energy for this task when I am constantly wiping up teensy crumbs and cups of spilled red juice off my freshly mopped floor?  Things were piling up on the shelves and it was a hot mess in there.  Cans were mixed with the cereal boxes, spices were in the wrong place, and I'm pretty sure 1/2 a bottle of syrup had exploded somewhere on the floor that I hadn't been able to see in several weeks.  It was embarrassing.  No problem; I can just shut the door of that messy closet and no one will know it looks like World War III in there.  The only issue with my strategy?  Something was starting to smell.  I'm not talking a, "Hmm, I wonder what that odor could be?" smell; it was a "Holy mother of Abraham Lincoln, what is that?" stench.  The aroma of death attacked my nostrils every time I opened that door. I had no idea where the smell was coming from; it was going to require me to empty out my entire pantry to find the culprit, and ain't nobody got time for that.  I continued to shut the door, especially when guests came over; the offensive "perfume" was contained as long as the pantry door was closed.

One afternoon, I walked into my home after picking up my son from preschool, and the smell had started to permeate the whole house.  I dry heaved as I started lighting every candle I owned, but it was no use.  I was going to have to face this unpleasant task with the added bonus of inhaling vomit-inducing fumes.

After several minutes of emptying the pantry, I found the culprit:  a forgotten bag of potatoes that had started to ferment.  It.  Was.  Nasty.  Not only had roots started growing out of each potato, but liquid was puddled at the bottom of the bag.  It was my very own homemade vodka.  The cloudy liquid was seeping out of the bag and onto my floor and other food items touching it. I quickly threw this sack and everything touching it away.  After finding the root of the problem, it was much easier to figure out what I had to do.  I dried up the "vodka" and sanitized the floor.  I organized shelves.  I made sure everything was in plain sight; I was not going to make the mistake again of keeping things so messy that items lay in there hidden and forgotten.

I started thinking about that hidden sack of rotting potatoes and how it is so much like hidden sin in our lives.  In her Bible study Stuck, Jennie Allen says, "We deal with the big, showy, obvious sin that everyone sees, but the invisible stuff is trickier, sneakier, deadlier."  It is much easier for us to wipe away the crumbs and red juice that obviously trash our spiritual floor.  We know to avoid the sins that everyone can see:  murder, drunkenness, adultery, etc.  Our exterior is kept pristine because it is what is visible, and we want others to think that we have it all together.  But, what is lurking beyond the surface?  The very thing you think no one sees and no one smells.  If left unchecked, it can permeate every crevice of your soul until it is obvious that something stinks.  No matter how many doors you close.

Hidden sin comes in many shapes and forms.  Pride, idolatry, greed, envy, arrogance, jealousy, lust, evil desires, anger, and resentment are all examples of sin that burrows deep within and starts fermenting our souls.  I have found that most of the sin the Bible talks about is the kind we can keep private and concealed.  I believe this is the case because covert sin is the most destructive. It penetrates our very core, steals our joy, and saturates our mind with negativity.  Since we battle these sins alone, we suffer in solitude.

Sometimes we suffer the horrible smell of hidden sin and have to dig deep in our heart to find the culprit.  David wrote in Psalms 19:12-13,

"How can I know all the sins lurking in my heart?  Cleanse me from these hidden faults.  Keep your servant from deliberate sins!  Don't let them control me.  Then I will be free of guilt and innocent of great sin." 

I was challenged by my women's life group to identify idols in my life.  I pictured people kneeling and bowing down before a golden statue and trusting in graven images or praying to other gods.  Based on that definition, I didn't have any idols; this was not an issue for me.   As I started to search my heart, however, I realized that an idol is anything that takes our focus off God and places them elsewhere.  I suffered feelings of fear and felt overwhelmed when something was out of my control or comfort zone. I suddenly found my rotten sack of potatoes:  I was putting the god of my comfort over the God of my life.  Eek.  It smelled.  My fear of confronting my fermenting sack had caused me to resist living completely abandoned to the will of God. It affected every thought, action, and inaction in my life and I could no longer cover it up.  After I identified the source of my issue, the only thing left to do was repent and throw that stinky mess away.  In Colossians 3:5, the Bible says:

"So put to death the sinful, earthly things lurking within you..."

By putting to death my hidden sin of idolatry, I could start to sanitize and clean up the wreckage it had left behind.  I am on the road to freedom. 

Let's not get so caught up in our outer self that we neglect the pantry of our soul; while people may look at our outward appearance, God looks at our heart (I Samuel 16:7).  No amount of shutting doors or pretending it doesn't exist will make it go away.  It takes a proactive approach to find the culprit causing havoc.  Don't let the smell fester; there is freedom and cleansing that comes from cleaning out the pantry.