Then there is this pink tool box.
It started out three Christmases ago secretly tucked beneath a long rack of color-coordinated shirts. We planned to fill it with pink tools appropriate for a little girl who loves to help her daddy. But we ran out of time that year to purchase all the tools so we agreed to keep it tucked away until her birthday. Her birthday came and passed without another thought to the pink tool box lurking in the dark corner of my closet.
Around October that year, I couldn't find one shoe. I started ransacking my closet floors searching for the match to my only pair of closed-toe black heels. I found it. I found the tool box too. With Christmas approaching again, I made a mental note to add little pink tools to my shopping list. My mental note was lost.
After my annual Christmas shopping trip with my mom and sister, I snuck my packages into the house and crept to my closet. I'm not sure I needed such stealth; the kids knew where they were going. I pushed a package under the shirts hanging next to my shoe rack and was answered with resistence. The pink tool box.
I'd spent my Christmas budget now with no little pink tools to show for it, and I needed that hiding space for my newest purchases. I pulled out the box and placed it in the open next to Lance's shoes. After all, he had much more room on his shoe rack than I did. I grabbed a blanket and draped it over the tool box. It would have to stay there until after Christmas. After that it could reclaim it's hiding spot until I was ready to gift it with some pretty pink tools for this year's birthday.
Lance complained about the swaddled obstruction near his shoes at first. I explained it was temporary, and he obliged. We began to not even notice it. Six months later, I needed a blanket for a picnic. The one covering the tool box seemed it would do. I grabbed the covering, considered hiding the box somewhere else, then decided it had been there two years. She had probably seen it anyway, and I was in a hurry.
This morning I went to retrieve the gifts hidden under my clothes that still have to be wrapped. The pink tool box sitting out in the open next to Lance's shoes caught my eye. I still haven't purchased any tools. I'm not sure I ever will. She's a preteen now and not so much into helping her daddy with little household projects anymore.
It struck me that I walk into my closet sometimes five times a day, and I don't even notice this obtrusive box anymore. It has gone from being hidden in a secret place, to being covered, to finally being fully exposed, and now that I think of it, in my way. Yet I somehow have ignored its existence.
I think sin can be like that. Secret unforgiveness gets covered by a little resentment until full out bitterness controls your thoughts. Or that bad habit done in private becomes an addiction until one day you wake up and realize it's your greatest need. Maybe it's harsh words that create a guarded distance that lead to a failed relationship.
Things hidden in a secret place never stay secret for long!
By the way, anyone know a little girl who would like an empty pink tool box?
Promise for Today:
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9