a retelling from October, 2010
As I walked downstairs one Saturday morning, I saw Cade sitting at the breakfast bar. I told him that before he got busy playing, he needed to take a bath. As always, he tried to beg his way out of it, but I shook my head. “You stink, Bud,” I told him.
With obvious dismay, he said, “But, you haven’t even smelled me yet today!”
This was true. Ken had graciously gotten up to serve Cade a bowl of cereal, and had let me sleep in a bit longer.
But while I hadn’t smelled him this morning, I had smelled him last night. I said, “While you were sleeping, I went in your room to kiss you and your hair stunk.”
Cade was outraged. He said indignantly, “Mom! I do NOT think that’s very nice of you to go sniffing people’s hair while they are sleeping!”
Oh, what a sneaky mother I am! There I was at midnight, when I knew he would be sleeping… tiptoeing up to Cade’s pillow on the sly, trying to get a big whiff of his curls without him knowing! Obviously, this was all part of my evil plan to capture Cade’s Saturday freetime and hold him captive in the bathtub for an eternal fifteen minutes.
It couldn’t be that he actually did need a bath!
Recently, my husband told me about something I needed to change. It was a tiny thing, which required little thought or sacrifice–about the same amount of effort required to take a bath. But rather than cheerfully complying, I acted like Cade. I told my husband that it was NOT very nice for him to maliciously sniff out my areas of deficiency while I wasn’t looking. Rather than being glad he had pointed out my ‘stink’, I was indignant and resentful about being exposed. (There’s a word for this condition. It rhymes with bride.)
Cade has no excuse for stinky hair. He has a perfectly good tub that is adjacent to his bedroom.
And I have no excuse for the stink in my heart. I have a perfectly good (literally!) Savior who has made a way for me to be clean.
It couldn’t be that he actually did need a bath!
Recently, my husband told me about something I needed to change. It was a tiny thing, which required little thought or sacrifice–about the same amount of effort required to take a bath. But rather than cheerfully complying, I acted like Cade. I told my husband that it was NOT very nice for him to maliciously sniff out my areas of deficiency while I wasn’t looking. Rather than being glad he had pointed out my ‘stink’, I was indignant and resentful about being exposed. (There’s a word for this condition. It rhymes with bride.)
Cade has no excuse for stinky hair. He has a perfectly good tub that is adjacent to his bedroom.
And I have no excuse for the stink in my heart. I have a perfectly good (literally!) Savior who has made a way for me to be clean.
“…let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscious, and our bodies washed with pure water.”
Hebrews 10:22