I used to live a Febreezed life. You know the kind of life I mean. The kind of life where the surface looks fine, but the inside is turmoil. It was like the mornings when I was running late for work and I would realize that I hadn’t made it to the dry cleaners the day before so I would search desperately for something to wear. I would shuffle through the clothes that were hanging and realize that most of those were too tight, too casual, or had a definite 1980’s vibe that just wouldn’t work in today’s world. Next, I would dive into the pile of worn-but-not-dirty work outfits laying on top of the dresser in my closet trying to piece together something that looked decent and wasn’t the exact outfit I had worn earlier that week.
Eventually, I would settle on a blouse with a small coffee stain or some sort tiny yet noticeable mark on it. The blemish could be easily covered with a strategically tied scarf or cardigan. I never bothered to press out the wrinkles, too much time and effort were required and it was a subtle way of giving the middle finger to the corporate world.
Working my way down, I would eventually select one of the gray or black pants lumped with the shirts. Once again, the wrinkles didn’t bother me because no one sees them when you sit behind a desk all day so really what’s the point of ironing out details that no one really observes.
After the dressing myself debacle I endured each morning. I would do the smell check. I shower every morning so I was fine, but sometimes the clothes I dug out of the not-quite-dirty pile didn’t. I would apply extra anti-perspirant and a healthy dose of Febreeze. I looked a smelled fine from a distance, but the closer you got the more you would notice the wrinkles and funky odor emanating from me. Lavender vanilla fabric refresher with a tinge of sweat is not the most pleasant scent. The coffee stain was still present on my chest, it was just covered by an annoying and crookedly tied scarf. The wrinkles were still there as well. I just hoped that no one noticed. The exterior was presentable until you got too close, and the inside was even worse.
My life was like that for a long time. From a distance, it seemed okay, but when you got too close the truth of the coffee stains and wrinkles revealed itself. I was a mess pretending to be okay. I kept telling myself I was alright and the little things that marred my façade weren’t worth bringing to God. I let my prideful arrogance and false belief that I could handle things get in the way of complete surrender.
I choose to douse myself in sweet-smelling lies than give my problems to God. When I finally came to my senses, it was incredible. The funk of unwashed issues, the wrinkles of my soul, and the stains of sin in my life were washed away. There was no longer any need for a giant bottle of Febreeze to saturate my clothing and mask the odors that permeated my being. I was completely renewed and bathed in the spirit.
I think there are a lot of people like that in the world. There is a certain sense that bringing our stuff to God isn’t necessary. Little things can be handled on our own, why bother God with the minutia when he has so much big stuff to deal with. The thing is He wants ALL of us, every gritty, gross, and grimy part. He wants the big, the little, and the confusing. Keeping a part of ourselves hidden from God is folly. He sees it all anyway might as well bring it to him and have it washed clean.
So no more Febreezed moments attempting to hide things from an all seeing God. Just a full service cleaner that presses out all the wrinkles, lifts all the stains, and eliminates all the odors from a stinky past. I love my new wardrobe, the robes of righteousness fit all my curves and feel great (and there is no unpleasant odor either)!
I am a Christian, a wife, a mom, and a part-time basket case who wants to be a full time writer.