Spilt Faith

It was one of those weeks!

 

But I had no idea the week I complained about would pale in comparison to one evening a few nights ago.

 

I needed milk for a recipe.  It was on a top shelf behind the juice pitchers.  I was in a rush.  I reached to the back and grabbed hold of the gallon and tried to lift it up over the front items. Didn’t work. I gave in and moved out one of the pitchers. The mayo jar off to the side got in the way—it began to teeter.  I didn’t have a free hand to grab it but my elbow worked well to hold it back. I was losing the battle!

 

Somehow I rebalanced the mayo…at the expense of the pitcher of orange juice!

 

It fell forward, the lid burst open, and all the liquid exploded out.  ALL the liquid!

 

Have you ever been sprayed with projectile OJ?  No?  Well let me tell you, you don’t know what you’re missing.  Gosh, I don’t think you’ve lived until you’ve had cold, thick, gooey, sticky, orange juice sprayed from the top of your head to the soaking of your tennis shoes.  Really, you haven’t lived until that happens.

 

And then you haven’t lived until you finally blink your eyes, with droplets falling, and see that the entire refrigerator is full of orange juice—every item, every nook, every cranny, and every shelf strategically holding a puddle of orange colored liquid.

 

Have you ever just stood staring at something because you can’t believe your eyes? I’d call mine a catatonic state. And I hadn’t yet surveyed the surrounding walls or the puddle I was standing in.

 

At some point when I was on my hands and knees, with towels all around me, and really bad thoughts going through my head, my husband came home.  I heard the words from across the room, “what happened?”

 

Silence.   I couldn’t really speak other than a few single grumbles…“juice”, “exploded”, “soaked”, “stay away.”

 

And then I gave “the look.”

 

You know “the look”, right?  The one that says, don’t say anything, don’t offer an opinion, don’t give advice, just give me space.  And he did.

 

It was THE worst clean up I think I have ever done.  I won’t bore you with the details.

 

When I stood in the shower squeegeeing the mess off my skin, I wondered about our projectiles of faith.

 

 

The whole drenching I received made me wonder how diligent I was for projecting God’s Truth and Love onto others.

 

Jesus said, “…let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”  Matthew 5:16

 

Letting our light shine before men means we douse them in Love. It means we lead with our Faith.  It means we shower others with Joy.

 

Jesus added a few other words to our role, “Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, …teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” Matthew 28:19-20.

 

Seeing those words, wouldn’t you agree that if we are followers of Christ we’re not to keep it to ourselves; rather we’re called to project Yahweh onto those around us. We’re called to be spilt pitchers of faith.

 

Yet, I think we need to ask ourselves, what do we usually project onto others? What do they see first, or read on our social media, or hear about in conversations?

 

I know some of the misguided stuff I’ve projected too many times:

 

–       politics instead of promises

–       anger instead of compassion

–       rules instead of respite

–       selfishness instead of salvation

 

We can change the list.

 

We can become those who splash a little Jesus onto others.

 

We can lead with Him.

 

We can douse instead of deprive.

 

We can impact instead of isolate.

 

We can welcome instead of condemn.

 

God is willing to be spilled through us.

 

He’s not easily squeegeed off.

 

Jesus is in the business of sticking to His people.

 

Think orange juice!