I was doing the fast clean thing in my kitchen Saturday before hopping on the Harley for an all day ride with my hubby. My fast clean thing is where I make the surface look good and pray no one looks over, under or inside. I was swiping off the counter and came across a bag of stale dinner rolls. No mold or anything – just really stale.
I thought about hanging on to them for another day or so. I could always nuke them to refresh them a little. But of course, as soon as they cooled they’d go stale again. I thought about trying to use them in something else like dressing or as croutons. I thought about freezing them until I could decide what to do. But in the end, I tossed them. Stale bread is stale bread.
I was visiting with a friend yesterday and the topic of someone who had hurt both of us pretty severely came up. We shared a few stories and put the whole thing back on the counter while we moved on to fresher topics. On the way home I found myself revisiting some of the hurtful incidents. It wasn’t pleasant so I had to make a decision.
First of all, I’d obviously done the fast clean thing with that relationship. I might have looked like I was over it on the surface. But opening a door revealed what a poor job I’d done.
I had to make a choice. I could hang onto the hurtful feelings for a while. But the last thing I wanted was to freshen up stale pain.
I could try to use them in some other situation – to prove myself innocent, to give examples of how I’d been the bigger person in the relationship, to get a little sympathy or compassion. But why would I want to recycle any of that old stuff?
I could freeze them deep and out of sight until I could decide what to do with them. But that just takes up room in my memory storage bank with bad stuff and makes less room for me to keep the good and golden memories.
In the end, I had to admit that stale bread is stale bread. It was time to toss those ugly buns of hurt and betrayal and tears beyond measure. It was time to pull out the flour and yeast, tie on the apron of God’s amazing grace and mercy, and stir up a batch of fresh baked goodness. And when I made that choice, God did a most wonderful thing. He brought back a distant memory of a time of laughter I’d shared with that person, a time when I had loved her and enjoyed being with her.
Now isn’t that just like God? The minute you do what He asks and let the bad stuff go He fills up the empty spot with the one thing to keep you from missing what you tossed. I love Him for that!
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Philippians 4:7-9
