Lifted from: Don’t Eat Trash
There was a time in my life that I used to get up at 5:45, skate through the freezing cold of Richardson, start work at 6am, work till 12Pm, return home to eat dim sims, play a computer game for most of the day, hang out with my house mates and then continue to play a computer game whilst slowly getting drunker and drunker until i blacked out. REPEAT.
I had reasons for it all. I had been through a large patch of insomnia, and alcohol was a stupid way to attempt to beat that, whilst absent-mindedly destroying myself. I was flooded with disappointment and bitterness that meant, my natural disposition towards community was being avoided at all costs. And i worked a job that was understaffed and played on my sense of camaraderie and loyalty to work double shifts all the time.
It was not an enjoyable experience. In hindsight i almost wasted 3 years of my life doing nothing. (there were many redeeming features though, in among the haze of my failing bitter hedonism.)
I was convinced that immersing myself in a fake world and getting at least some “sleep” was pass-able.
At no stage do i wish i was back there. Other then maybe do it differently. The whole time there was a voice in the back of my head of how i was to get myself out of the repeating cycle. I played in bands that i enjoyed, i met with an array of different church groups, i had accountability groups, i let random people stay at our house, i did other christian things, attempting to somehow make shape of my life enough to pull myself up.
But that was the problem. Me.
Yesterday i heard this incredible analogy. Of a baby pooping itself and trying to clean the poop up itself. The Dad walks into the room, expecting to have to clean some poop up and there’s the baby, sitting in a huge pile of it, and the baby is like…. ‘…oh…. didn’t see you come in…. I’m just…. cleaning up some poop. Don’t worry about it, i got this Dad. I’ll be finished cleaning this as soon as i can figure out how use my legs… So you just go and hang out with Mum”
Babies can’t clean up their own poop. It’s physically, mentally and behaviorally impossible. But as adults, as children of God, we try to do similar. Taking my story as an example I once woke up in my bed, wearing clothes i don’t remember changing into the night before. It was the first time i had blacked out and not remembered a portion of my life. It freaked me out. It was one of those “This will never happen again” Moments, where you swear to yourself that you will make that not repeat itself.
So instead of putting my arms up in the air and screaming “FATHER GOD, I pooped myself and i need you to clean me up” I close the door between me and him, and begin attempting to clean myself up. I try and stand up to get some type of cloth and instead of my legs working, my baby legs collapse and i go head first back into my poop. And of course – a few weeks later, i black out again, and once again i forget a part of my life. It freaks me out less… Because i’ve had my face in a big pile of poop recently, when i tried to clean it up myself.
But as soon as we understand our relationship with the father, we spend a lot less time with our face in our own poop.
Let God clean your poop. Hug him a lot. and make smiley baby faces at him. Its kind of our job.