Sticky Hands

             Between work, college, and practicum obligations things are a bit of a whirlwind at the Wilson home. We are very dedicated fasters only our act of food restraint is fueled by our inattentiveness to our busy schedule over religious zeal.  Often in the frantic scurry to rush out the door we miss the opportunity to pack a lunch. This results in grabbing food on the go with meals including crackers, chips, and occasionally fruit. On an especially busy Thursday all I found manage to grab as I propelled out the door was an orange.

                Due to an extra bus route, I was ravenous at the return to the bus office. I grabbed my orange and started toward my bus. Using my bare-hands I skinned the orange and started devouring it's fruit like squirrels indulge on acorns before winter. The juices ran out of the orange onto my hands and mouth. Afterwards my hands felt uncomfortably sticky and smelled like citrus. Naturally, my gut instinct nudged me to walk up the hill to the office to wash my hands but than it hit me, our desire to be people of integrity should look like my sticky hands. I think there's a reason Galatians describes godly characteristics as "fruits of the spirit'; fruit though nutritious and sweet are a messy food.

           You're can't expect to eat fruit without staining your mouth or hands, likewise, when you're filled with love your actions and words are stained sweeter. The reason so many avoid living by these fruits is the stickiness it leaves behind. Our natural default says sticky is bad we need to wash off, many attempt the same with God. When we humbly try to live by these fruits, our hands are stained; it doesn't satisfy us anymore to love those we love, our love grows wider, and even compels to love our enemies. Our default says it's unnatural to help, but love springs us into action. With holy sticky hands you feel completely empty sitting idol.

          The real issue most face in living by the fruits of the spirit is the fears of change. What would my life look like if I really gave my thoughts, words, deeds to Jesus? What change would that make in my life? How would that change the way I treat my friends? my family? my neighbors? How would that change the way I treat those who are different?  How would God use a mess like me to show his love to people who desperately need him?

           In the wise words of a favorite psychology professor, "God turns a mess into a message and a test into a testimony."  I think generally people are more open than they are closed. Those who aren't spiritual still want prayers in times of trouble and unrest. People facing tragedy still ask, "Why God?" Our job isn't to be perfect polished people, our job is to live humbly loving God and all people. If you're interested in living by the fruits of the spirit, take a minute this week to say one encouraging thing to someone who might need a warm voice or listening ear.