Hidden away
There are all sorts of places we might call home — apartments, houses, townhomes, RVs. And each home is, of course, unique to those who live there. Just think about the variety of houses you’ve spent time in. Some are organized, while others are a bit less so. They can be flawlessly decorated or completely quirky. They can even house any mixture of humans or four-legged friends.
But I’m convinced there’s at least one thing that every house has in common: the junk drawer. No matter the size or occupants or location, everyone has the place they stash the stuff they don’t know what to do with. I’m confident right now you’re picturing that very place in your own home.
At our house, its contents include no less than eight different sized notepads we’ve acquired over time, countless rubber bands, several sets of keys (only a few of which I actually know what they belong to), various parts to kids’ toys we’ve vowed to repair with super glue, a manual to an appliance that no longer works, and assorted wrinkled receipts (among a whole lot of other things).
Whether it’s a desire for the house to appear neat and tidy or there’s just simply no other designated space for the scotch tape and three random Allen wrenches — the junk drawer becomes the place where we stash away the things we don’t want others to see. Or maybe even the things we, ourselves, don’t really want to deal with.
In all honesty, we operate much the same way with our everyday lives. We have this tendency to want to stash away all the less attractive parts of our lives we don’t want others to see. Our over (or under) reactions. Our quick judgements or words we wish we could take back. We’d like to hide our short fuse or intolerance as quickly as we stash away the collection of pens in that drawer.
Thankfully, as people of faith, we don’t have to shy away from naming all the unsightly aspects of who we are. In fact, we get to name them aloud. I’ve always thought one of the more significant parts of our time of worship is when we confess our sins. We name, together, that we’ve all failed. We’ve made mistakes. We’ve done the very things we wished we hadn’t. No one is exempt. Whether publicly or not, it’s good for us to name aloud that we regularly make a mess of our lives.
And equally as important: we have a God who’s willing to help us re-organize our lives, figure out what to prioritize, or discover where we can do better. In the midst of this Holy Week, in particular, we give thanks for our God who tells us there’s nothing we stash away that God doesn’t already know. Nothing we’re ashamed of that God hasn’t already promised to wipe clean. Thank goodness for a God who has seen every inch of our life’s junk drawer… and loves us all the same.
