Styrofoam Peanuts

Styrofoam Peanuts

My sister was listening to her two children playing upstairs.  Leah, 2, and Ryan, 4, were giggling, talking, and, as usual, making enough noise to sound like an entire herd of elephants was loose in the second floor of their home.  Suddenly, it got very quiet, too quiet, as any mom of little ones knows.  As Marsha started up the stairs, she heard the sound of the Dustbuster first.  Soon after that, she heard Leah yelling, “Ow, ow, ow.”  Rounding the door into Ryan’s room, Marsha was greeted by a surprising sight.  Ryan was holding the Dustbuster to Leah’s hair which was becoming twisted in the vacuum.  Her hair was filled with styrofoam peanuts that, until then, had filled the giant 4 feet tall stuffed rabbit at the end of the bed.  Eventually, Marsha learned that Ryan and Leah had been jumping from the top bunk bed into the rabbit’s open arms.  The rabbit had ruptured, spewing styrofoam pellets everywhere, including into Leah’s long, thick hair.

Ryan did the next logical thing.  Instead of calling his mom and confessing what had happened, he decided to vacuum up the mess, including the pellets in Leah’s hair, which was, of course, attached to her head.  Her hair had gotten so twisted around the rollers that Marsha was afraid she was going to have to give Leah her first haircut.  Instead, she ended up taking apart the Dustbuster in order to unroll Leah’s hair.  Needless to say, both children still got in trouble not only for disobeying by jumping off of beds, but also for attempting to cover up their wrongdoing.

Though we can now all chuckle about the thought of Leah’s tangled hair, the memory of the exploded rabbit, the room covered with the snow of styrofoam pellets, and the misguided logic of the Dustbuster, I am amazed that many of us as adults never seem to outgrow the desire to cover our sins, rather than to confess and ask forgiveness for them.  I think about all of the pain that Leah would have been spared, if someone had simply called Marsha.  I think about the panic that Ryan must have felt when his mom rounded that corner and he knew he had been caught.  Ryan’s and Leah’s consequences were compounded by the piling on of one wrong decision followed by another and another.  That is understandable for a two- and a four-year old; not so much for adults.

Several years ago, I was struck by a quote I heard somewhere in passing:  God does not always punish us for our sins; sometimes, we are punished by them.  Whenever I think of Ryan and Leah and their styrofoam peanuts, I am reminded of James 5:16:  Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that you may be healed.

Lord, help me to be alert to any path of wrong decisions in my own life.  May I recognize how those choices can impact others, bringing pain into their life, as well as my own.  Show me that my attempt to fix things may actually compound consequences.  Instead, may I hear the Holy Spirit’s sweet, convicting voice in my heart, accept personal accountability, confess my sin to You, above all, as well as to those against whom I may have sinned.  Lord, teach me to seek forgiveness, instead of exoneration, and help me to ever be an overflowing vessel of the grace I have received through the Lord Jesus Christ.

© 2011 Gerry Sisk

(10/25/11)