shower in the stairwell

This morning I had the “privilege” of receiving an object lesson at church. The 8:20 big church service had let out early and so I had gone out to check on one of the small groups. As I was making my way back over to the main campus a friend stopped to let me know she had brought an Americano for me. Bursting with excitement because I had not yet had any coffee we ran back inside and headed down for the special delivery. As we were walking down stairs to the FLC I hear this “splat” and see what at I first I thought was water showering down from above. IF ONLY it were water, the shower was accompanied by a putrid smell and a little girl crying…”mommy, I don’t feel good.” Well, I am thinking, girlfriend you better be feeling better now because you just threw up all over me.

Now you have to understand, I have an incredibly weak stomach so as I realize what has happened I am running to the restroom myself (Mamma, I don’t feel so well…oh wait my mamma is not here). I then try to clean myself up enough to make the trip back to the house to change. The thing about vomit is that the stench stays with you and every time I get a whiff, it makes me want to vomit. Thankfully I made it home to change and back up to the church in no time flat so I did not miss out on anything important.

In the service this morning we participated in Communion and Todd reminded us of the significance and symbolism of the elements that we share at the table. Tonight as I reflect on the day I think about how disgusted I was by the shower in the stairwell, does the sin in my life disgust me in the same way. I am thankful for the Grace that I enjoy through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross and I want my life to be marked as one that was in pursuit of Him no doubt. One thing that Todd challenged us with as we gathered around the table was for us to take a look at our spiritual lives and ask where I am and what is keeping me from true intimacy with the Lord. Does the stench of the sin in my life keep me from returning time and time again to my flesh and to those things that so easily entangle me? I don’t want to be like that dog who returns to his own vomit.