My Dirty Finger

My Dirty Finger

Sometimes it's hard to know where to draw the line. Sometimes it is obvious: this is where Louisiana ends and Texas begins; this is my stuff, that is yours; nakedness is appropriate in your own bathroom, but not in the sporting goods department at Wal-Mart! Other times it is less clear: the exact point at which a normally accepted behavior becomes no longer acceptable; the specific point in time when you officially become old; how much of your personal life do you really need to share on a social networking sight?

Setting all of that aside, I press on and assume that I can spin this yarn and not cross any lines, especially that of good taste!

Suffice it to say that I got one of my fingers REALLY dirty a few days ago. Have you ever changed a diaper, or cleaned up after a sick animal, or had a bathroom mishap of some sort - think along those lines ... REALLY filthy! Okay 'nough said.

I, of course, immediately, thoroughly washed my hands. A few minutes later, after completing my task, I washed them again, especially the particularly affected finger.

The funny thing is, with the memory of what had happened still fresh in my mind, I still felt like it was dirty! I still felt like I could not use that finger and carefully avoided doing so.

Finally, I washed it a third time. That's when the thought distinctly and clearly popped into my mind - stick that finger in your mouth ... yes, that finger!

Me: What!?

The little voice: You washed it, right?

Me: Yes ....

Voice: With soap and water, right?

Me: Yes ...

Voice: So you trust the cleaning agent and you trust the person that did the scrubbing?

Me: Well ... yes ...


Voice: Then put the finger in your mouth! You either need to scrap that cleaner and find one you actually trust, or act according to what you know to be true.

Sometimes there is a logic disconnect, and our actions are not consistent with what we say we believe, or what we say we know. That finger looked clean, smelled clean, and was indeed sufficiently clean enough to do anything that needed to be done by a finger. All that prevented me from using it was my memory of it's uncleanness.

Now, I know that all of you super spiritual people are way ahead of me here, but let me spell it out so that the less spiritual amongst us can catch up and have their “aha moment” too.

The bad news: all have sinned. The Good News: If you have confessed, asked forgiveness, and repented - you are clean. If you still see yourself in all of your former filth and believe that God could never use you; then you either need to renounce Him as your cleaner and Jesus' blood as the cleaning agent and find something that works; or act according to what you know to be true - He has cleaned you. And only you, dwelling on your past filthiness, can prevent Him from doing marvelous things through you.

Now, I wonder what deep spiritual lesson I can learn from that rancid smell coming from the refrigerator … it probably has something to do with expiration dates ...