September 21, 2015 


“Mommy, I dropped the syrup and now the bottle is all drippy.”


Not a sentence I wanted to hear. Seriously. Because, um, “drippy” translates into puddles and lines of oozy syrup all over the place. And just when you think you’ve wiped up all of the puddles and lines, more seem to appear.


Sounds exactly like some of the messes I’ve made in my own life.


By the time we finished with this sticky venture, I somehow had syrup on the back of my skirt(?), all over a barstool that had been on the other side of the room, (another ?), and stream-like creations on the side of the trashcan (a little more understandable).


I handled the mess with patience and without regret-inducing parenting skills. I simply assured my guy that it could be cleaned up as we jumped into the task.




Despite the soap and water and rags and paper towels, the residue remained.


A drip on a chip bag-a reminder.


The squishy sound of a shoe-a reminder.


The faint odor of maple lurking in the pantry-a reminder.


All factors pointing to a guilty, drippy syrup bottle.


Kind of like lingering guilt.


A memory that makes you wince-a reminder.


A regret you just can’t seem to shake-a reminder.


A grudge with a tight grip-a reminder.


How many times have I confessed my own messes to the Lord only to have Him assure me that the mess has been cleaned up and forgiven? And yet, I choose to return to it…to get stuck in the guilt and regret.


We cannot, we must not, stay stuck in our guilt. The mess has been wiped clean.


Let it go. It was nailed to the Cross.


Remember that the next time your feet try to cling to what has been forgiven.




And, hey, remember to keep your syrup bottle at a place with a low-level fall risk. You don’t want it to get all drippy.


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