I Want Candy

I was a sneaky child.

Or at least I tried to be.

I had my own ways of getting around doing things I never wanted to do.

Don't want to take a shower when the babysitter is watching you?

Turn on the shower, leave it on for an appropriate amount of time, sit in the bathroom reading your newest edition of Babysitter's Club, and then stick your head underneath the sink as you hear the babysitter coming up the stairs.

The wet hair always did the trick.

Don't want to finish running the dreaded mile run in PE?

Pretend that your total lack of ability to breathe isn't because you haven't left the couch in a few weeks, but it actually is the symptoms of an asthma attack.

That got them every time.

But my greatest feat by far didn't come from trying to get out of something

In came from trying to get in something

More specifically, trying to get into the cabinet that held all of the cookies, left over halloween candy and various sugary goodness that resided in our kitchen.

I never asked for a snack.

Then my Mom might have said no.

And I didn't want to hear that answer.

My mother always had close watch over this stash.

But I had my ways around that.

I would wait for the phone to ring.

Or for my brother to call.

And sometimes, I would even ask for her help looking for a "missing book" ( that I had stashed underneath my bed prior to said request) to keep her occupied.

Then, when her back was turned, I would make my run for it.

Down the stairs,

Into the kitchen,

Grab the chair,

Jump on top of said chair,

Open the cabinet,

Grab whatever morsel of junk food that I could get my hand on,

Stuff said morsel underneath my shirt,

Jump off the chair,

Run back up the stairs,

And into my room, door closed and locked.

But that wasn't the end of the mission.

The real question then arose- what do I do with the evidence?

What do I do with the wrapper?

I couldn't throw it away- she'd see it when she took out the trash.

I couldn't flush it down the toilet- then I'd have stopped up toilet. And that is never good.

And then an idea struck me- I could throw the trash behind my huge dresser in my room.

Then no one would ever find it.

This scheming lasted for a few good years.

And I thought I would be successful.

Until my Mom decided she wanted to redo my room.

And wanted to rearrange the furniture.

And when she moved the dresser, hundreds upon thousands of wrappers came flowing out, revealing my scheming, revealing my plans, revealing my shame.

Sometimes, I think I try to treat my relationship with God the way I treated those candy bars.

I try to hide parts of my life from Him,

Keep them to myself,

Sure, they're a part of my life.

But that doesn't mean that I need to share it with you.

I try to keep them to myself.

I try to keep them secret.

I think " If God doesn't see the evidence, it'll be OK"

I like the way my friendships are going- I don't have to offer that up.

I like the way I'm doing school- I don't have to offer that up.

If I offer up my dating life, he might tell me I'm going to be forever single.

And I'm not sure I'm ready to hear that.

And I think, if I don't pray about this part of my life,

If I don't talk about it with my small group,

Then those parts of my life will be in my control.

God doesn't need to see that evidence.

But that's not the way God wants it- He wants all of us.

Even our schemes.

Even our shame.

He wants every single part of our life in use for his service.

It tells us in Romans 6:12

"...Offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness"

We are called to offer every part of ourselves.

Not just the parts we feel like we need his help in

Not just the parts that are going wrong

Every part of our lives

No hiding

No scheming

No wet, stuck underneath the sink heads.

Every

Single

Part

Even those candy wrappers you hide underneath your dressers