On a visit to the Fort Wayne Children’s Zoo I rode on the Sky Safari with my son who was four years old at the time. The Sky Safari is essentially a bench that hangs from a cable, patrons ride it over a section of the zoo, like a ski lift.
I can handle heights, but my heart does skip a beat or two on a ride like that, and I was also looking after my son on the ride. Isaiah doesn’t really understand the dangers of the world yet. Crossing the street, a hot stove, a seat without proper restraints 38 feet in the air, these are things he needs to learn how to deal with. He’s also small for his age and he was loose in the seat. He was squirming around and I was trying to get him to sit still and he was getting angry with me trying to restrict his movement. It was pretty stressful.
Sometimes I post about interactions with my son on twitter, tagging the tweets “parentingisFun”. After I got off the ride I used my smart phone and posted this:
My sin almost squirmed out on the Sky Safari at the ft wayne zoo #parentingisFun
I immediately realized my typo, attempted to delete it, realized I couldn’t, and posted a follow-up.
Previous tweet – meant to say “son” #oops #typo
But then I got to thinking, maybe my first post was more true than not.
Whether We Like It Or Not
Sometimes our sin squirms out, doesn’t it?
We go about our day completely minding our own business, something happens, and there it is, out in the open for all to see.
We stub our toe.
Spill our coffee on our nice clothes.
Get cut-off on the road.
We realize we don’t have money to pay the bills.
Someone gives us a disdainful look.
Our children are disrespectful, or they move around 38 feet in the air.
And out it comes.
Deep insecurity about self.
A need to assert control.
My professor called it “leaking”. But maybe “squirming out” works better to describe it.
Sometimes it feels like our sin is actively working against us, squirming just under the surface.
Fighting against our more noble desires.
So what do you do when your sin squirms out?
Too often I try to shove it back in and let it bubble some more, let it stew and fester until it squirms out louder and hotter and more violently at a more inconvenient time.
But maybe there’s a better way.
I believe, as I’ve been taught, that the best thing to do is embrace this part sin and bring it before the throne of Christ, confessing,
“This also is me”
And I believe, as I’ve been taught, that Christ will respond,
“I know, my child, and yet, I love you”