Balancing Your Life - Lesson #9

“Hank, Bro and the Garbage Can”
It would have been simple enough if I had put one of those child restraint devices on my kitchen cabinet years ago. But oh no it seems as if God wanted me to learn some valuable principles with repeated garbage can incidences. When I say that this has been a battle for many years I am not exaggerating. Today the lesson in it all finally clicked so I’ll be heading to the baby department at Wal-Mart as soon as I finish writing this little story about my Hank, my Brother, and yes our white plastic kitchen garbage can. To catch you up if you don’t know them Hank is my “substandard” apricot colored Poodle-looking mutt and Bro is my aging weenie-dog (he’s a Dachshund for you non-doggie people). Hank has had a fetish for garbage every since he started living with us. He was one of those rescues from work. I, not unlike most vets seldom own “pre-planned” animals. We tend to collect a variety of the world’s rejects and life with them is always challenging initially as they learn to trust a new master versus their usual previous life of abuse of one form or another. Having said all of that please cut Hank some slack about loving garbage. I’ve rationalized that it’s just because of his rough initial upbringing. All I know is that he was found wandering down the Troy Highway with his tail tucked between his legs. There’s a whole other story how he got from the Troy Highway into my garbage can but we’ll save that for another day. I have learned to put the small kitchen stool in front of the cabinet to stop him from opening it and dragging the garbage can out and eating Lord only knows whatever leftovers and miscellaneous junk the Salter’s have accumulated in the past 24-48 hours. Back to what just happened-this is sort of like live-TV; it’s almost live-writing. Only having left the house for two hours I return this morning to a kitchen floor over-flowing with garbage. I apparently forgot to put the stool up when I left. All was quiet. It was just me and the garbage. Taylor, my youngest son, is still at football practice and Will, my oldest son, is till snoozing the morning away. Normally Hank and Bro would have noisily greeted me at the door as soon as they heard my car pull into the drive way. When I walked into the house their absence spoke volumes. I knew what I was about to see. The garbage-laden kitchen was no surprise. This same scenario has been repeated over and over in our house. I realize at that moment what a real slow learner Hank, Bro and of course, I really am. I stared at the familiar scene and also realized how thankful I was that I had not thrown the coffee filter out that morning. It’s easier to get ground-in grass stains from football pants than clean up coffee grinds tracked all over the kitchen floor. Leaving the scene with that bit of a thankful heart I walked upstairs in search of the criminals. The house was eerily quiet as I went from room to room. Then suddenly I spotted Hank and Bro in the back corner of Taylor’s room. I was staring at their back ends. They were motionless, heads facing the wall of a room they normally would never go through much less lie down in. Taylor’s room is not conducive for anything other than the male-teenage species. Only if you’ve had teenage boys living in your home would you understand this. So there they lay afraid to even turn around and acknowledge my presence. My husband, a much more Biblical disciplinarian of Hank and Bro than me, has substituted the garbage can for the rod on more than one occasion. It is at this juncture in our little story that I stop and pray that there are not PETA readers on board. Rusty isn’t abusive at all; he just taps them with the plastic can and in that stern masculine voice says, “Hank, what is this? “ They are so smart they know it’s the garbage can; they obviously have connected the garbage dots, and they haul tail to the back door to escape what they think will be more of Rusty’s wrath. Hank always appears more petrified than Brother because of his past abuse. We know Brother wasn’t the instigator because of his size but he becomes equally guilty for jumping in on Hank’s garbage. One time they got into barbeque chicken bones and they were sick for days. There has always been a bad consequence for them physically or emotionally every single time it happens. You would think that they would figure it out and stop repeating the same mistake. You would think I would figure it out and go take the time to buy and install the $2.00 restraint device. How many times do we all have to go around the same mountain before we finally “get it”?
I would never make it to Wal-Mart today if I wrote down all of the spiritual analogies apparent in this story of Hank, Bro, and the garbage. I’ll share what the Lord is speaking to me. Ask Him to give you insight as you begin to examine your garbage story. What hit me today like no time previously was that when we blow it (get into the same garbage again) we have a tendency to run from our Master. We can’t face Him with any trace of garbage in us. Because He is holy we couldn’t be in His presence dirty even if we wanted. Our garbage keeps us from Him; from greeting Him in the morning; from enjoying His presence; from hearing His voice. We become like Hank and Bro cowering in the corner of Taylor’s room feeling ashamed but not knowing what to do to remedy it. It has become a vicious cycle. We keep going back and repeating the same ole stupid mistake; getting ourselves onto the same nasty garbage. When we do it we know we are wrong but we just stand at the door wanting out. We fear that God is really going to punish us this time. We feel dirtier each time we sin…the battle is our mind… the enemy begins to speak lie after lie; after all he is the “father of all lies” (John 8:44) . The lies are sent to cause doubt, discouragement, despair-you name it-anything opposite of the Holy Spirit’s work in your life. So when you find yourself in a “garbage mess” all over again what’s the solution? It is a simple all-powerful two word answer- the cross. Go immediately. You won’t “feel” like it-you’ll want to run and hide away like Hank and Bro and then you’ll surely sink into frustration, guilt, disappointment, discouragement-anything the opposite of the peace that comes from His sweet forgiveness. Run to that mercy seat as fast as you can. “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). Since this is a “repeat garbage incident” which makes you a “repeat offender” shouldn’t you spend some time there asking Him what the root of the problem really is. Be still and listen. The axe must be taken to the root for long term victory. God is so creative in His ways of delivering you from each and every sin. Remember all of the spiritual weapons at your disposal- Praise, Prayer and Fasting, the Word, and let’s add ‘Personal Touch.’ God still uses others through the laying on of hands as conduits of His delivering power (Hebrews 6:1-2) . The Holy Spirit is the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow (Hebrews 13:8). If you’ve been unsuccessfully fighting your same battle let go of your pride and ask a seasoned intercessor for help. I wouldn’t be writing this if I had not asked for help on more than one occasion. Jesus died not only for you to have eternal life but an abundant life (overflowing with love, joy, peace and freedom) in Him. Get out of your garbage and get into His fullness. He is more than enough!!

Ann Allen Salter
August 2008