I don’t want to tell you
Stuck in a pile of laundry in the nursery, my ears picked up the one sound that always sends me running.
The click of the step stool in the kitchen.
Despite child-proofing all of the lower cabinets to keep the pots and pans in their rightful places, the girls quickly caught on to the power of the step-stool. The magical little ladder that gives them quick access to the freezer, sink, and upper cabinets… with all the glass and breakables.
I made it to the kitchen in time to find a doe-eyed child frozen with a trail of paper towels.
“Hi Mommy.” She tried to act nonchalant. Another day, another paper towel. Nothing to see here.
“What are you doing with those?” I knew there was more to the story, but I wasn’t certain I wanted to learn the ending.
“Um… nothing.” The wheels were turning behind her big blue eyes searching for a believable excuse.
“I need you to be honest with me. Why do you have paper towels?”
“I don’t want to tell you.” Fear replaced the small dose of confidence she’d possessed when she was certain I’d never be aware of her quicker-picker-upper situation.
I waited her out. One trait I’ve well developed over the past six years of mothering. And after a few moments of contemplation passed, the truth was finally revealed. The round of summersaults on mommy’s bed resulted in a cup of water being knocked over on mommy’s nightstand. It was a big uh-oh, and she was certain she knew the consequences ahead of her if I ever found out.
I followed her with a few extra paper towels, we soaked up the mess, and a few minutes later the summersaults resumed in the living room.
Like mother, like daughter.
Time and time again, I’ve refused God’s help in the midst of my mess. “I’ve got this, God. I can handle it. I’m pretty sure I know what to do, and I’d like to get it done before you find out.”
As if, somehow, God isn’t truly omniscient. My brain misleads me into believing I can still conceal some things now and again. And better yet, that I am sufficiently capable of cleaning up the mess on my own.
But God knows better. My handful of paper towels is far too small, and my ability to do an adequate job is greatly lacking. Rather than trying to be self-sufficient, if I’d just admit the problem, He’d be more than willing and able to help.
The same goes for you, too, my friend.
Did you drop the ball? Do that thing you know you weren’t supposed to? Give in rather than stand firm? Listen, we all do. But concealing our messes and mistakes will never correct them. Rather, it’ll only pile on guilt and regret.
Instead, let’s go to God. Be honest. Don’t hide the truth from Him. Admit the mistake, seek His help, and you’ll find great joy and relief as you realize His love for you will always remain… no matter what.
