I have one of those toothbrushes that requires a AA battery (see picture) so that with a flip of the switch, the bristles begin rotating to help clean your teeth better -- supposedly. While that is up for debate, here's what struck me.
I stuck the toothbrush in my mouth and commenced to spiffing up those pearly whites when suddenly I realized, 'Hey, that feels different. It even kind of hurts. When did those bristles become so sharp?'
Well, it turns out my wife ... unbeknownst to me ... had replaced my old, worn out and soft bristles with new ones. But I liked my old bristles. They were comfortable. They did what they were supposed to do although I didn't really have to feel anything. These new ones are sort of painful, like they're cleaning a little deeper than before.
And that's when I realized that I had just stuck a metaphor for the spiritual life in my mouth.
I settle for a routine of doing the same old things, going to the same old services, singing the familiar songs, saying the appropriate prayers. But I get comfortable and soft, and before long I don't even realize the compromise I've made.
At least not until I hear something new in a sermon, a song or a scripture -- and it feels different. There is a sharp edge to it, even kind of hurts.
And, yeah, suddenly I'm cleaning off the grime underneath that I let build up. An appropriate resolution as it turns out for the New Year -- digging a little deeper, feeling something more, letting God's bristles do their work.
No comments:
Post a Comment