Pages

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Something's Rotten in the State of Denmark







 One of the opening lines of the play Hamlet reads, "Something's rotten in the state of Denmark." This line became a phrase used for anything foul that is at play underneath the surface of something. Last week I discovered something foul that was at play in a backpack belonging to one of my kids. A decomposing pear. 



It was another school morning in the Martin house, and people were in full swing getting ready. I was barking orders while simultaneously packing the kids snacks. In a hurry, I grabbed their lunchboxes and began to pile them for emptying and refilling, only something was a little off about one of the lunchboxes. I sniffed the edge, and winced at the acrid sweet smell of fermented fruit. "What is that? Spilled Anti-Bac? Juice?" My mind rushed to a conversation that I had with one of my kids who complained that it smelled like beer in the minivan. "That's impossible, Hun- there isn't any way it's that." I flashed forward to the mystery at hand, and decided to use my extra sensitive nose (thank you, 4 pregnancies for that blessing and curse) to track down the unpleasant odor. I stuck my head inside the backpack that I pulled said lunchbox from, and the smell overpowered me. "Ain't NOBODY got time for this on a school morning!!!" I seethed under my breath (or what was left of it). 



I carried the back pack to the kitchen counter, and inspected the contents of the bag under the bright lights. And I saw it- whatever it was, it was brown, mushy, stunk to high heaven, and was nestled in between a few folders and papers at the bottom of the bag.  Now completely repulsed, I grabbed a wad of paper towels and extracted what promised to be a legitimate (stinky) setback to an already hurried morning. I felt anger rise up in me. I called up the child in question, and held out the putrid produce for him to see. "Oh", he sheepishly responded, "That must have been the pear that I didn't have room for in my lunchbox, so I left it in my bag. I guess I forgot about it." Understatement of the year.



We got busy with the task of righting every rotten wrong inside the bag, and decided what to keep and wash, and what to pitch. I was shocked at how many papers were leaked on to. One little shriveled up pear causing that much damage, and that big of a setback. When it was all said and done, that putrid pear cost me about 25 minutes. 25 minutes that I honestly didn't have. We were late to school. As I drove, my insides were still at a rolling boil. I was angry at the child. Angry at the pear. Angry at the setback. Suddenly, my angry thoughts were interrupted by the bickering of kids. There was a rotten, sour spirit in my van. And it all began with me.



You see, if I had the luxury of rewinding the tape from that morning, I would see the moment that I extracted the pear, and seen a clear cross roads. I could have a) decided to laugh it off, joking around about the irony of having his own personal compost heap in his back pack on Earth Day. I could have eased up on the time factor by putting it into perspective. I could have used grace as a cushy place to have this setback land on. Or I could have b) gotten seething mad about the whole thing, creating tension in my home, tension in the kids, and tension in the van. Sadly I chose the latter.



There was a source to that stench in the bag. It didn't appear out of nowhere. The odor was coming from a mushy, brown, forgotten and forlorn pear. And until I dealt with that pear, and everything it leaked on, I wouldn't have peace for my nose. Much like that scenario, there was a source to that tension in our house, in the kids, in the van. I was the one who perpetuated that sour spirit because of the root of anger in my heart. The root of pride that didn't want to be late. The root of a bad attitude. And just like that pear leaked on everything it touched, so my bad attitude leaked onto everything I touched. The kids, the house, the van. Had I chosen to let it go, they could have had the freedom to let it go too. The good news is that my mothering isn't defined by my rotten attitude in that moment. It's defined by a God who allows me to fall on my face so I can recognize my need for a Savior. Friends, it's in those moments of rottenness of spirit that we can trust that God will show us, if we're willing, the source of that bad attitude. The process will be messy, as He sorts through our baggage with us, and it might be a perceived setback. But in the end, we'll be better for it. Case in point, my child's backpack and lunch box are now clean as a whistle. That's already an improvement! It's a pit stop in the process of keeping his bag clean. I'm sure there will be another pit stop in the future, as we will experience pit stops in our quests to keep clean hearts.



Much like the backpack that held my child's belongings, our hearts are the epicenter of our lives. There's no such thing as one area of rottenness staying contained. There is always cross-contamination. 



Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life. Proverbs 4:23



The contents of your heart are precious, my friend. So when you have something unpleasant coming to the surface, choose to be brave. View this setback as a setup for success. Lay all the contents of your heart bare before God, and let Him lovingly show you the root of that ornery attitude. Because when it comes to your heart, content determines course. May your course be clean. May your willingness to stay clean be tenacious. And may the aroma coming from your heart be sweet, coating every area of your life.

No comments :

Post a Comment

Be sure to leave me a comment so I know you stopped by!