Desire, sin, and reality

“Sin is the surest way for the sinner to not get what he wants.”

–Pastor John

Published in: on November 18, 2012 at 1:43 pm  Leave a Comment  
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When I was little, there was this toy makeup kit.  I craved.

The kit only lasted for like 5 minutes.  I had a happy five minutes.

And then it was over.

So I asked for another kit and another and another.

Inside each kit was a bright red plastic lipstick.

There was some kind of clear nail polish, authentically stenchy.

There was a set of bright red fake nails that, well, I don’t know how they were supposed to stay on a five-year-old’s fingers but I know for sure they didn’t.

There was an itty-bitty tissue box, too.  I don’t think there was a mirror and if there was a powder puff, I don’t remember it.

And then there was the excitingest, best part of the kit I looked most forward to: a cardboard box of powder that, when a five-year-old opened, would create an explosive chalky cloud.

Picture, if you would, this much powder, only, in a rather small bathroom.

I got a very, very special feeling whenever I got one of those kits.  I craved those kits so badly that I tore the cardboard-and-plastic shell off like Cookie Monster tearing into a box of cookies.  I would rip open the cardboard box and saturate myself (and the bathroom) with a white dust cloud.  Then I would pretend to smear bright red lipstick all over my lips.  (It’s a good thing that was plastic.)  And last of all, I would paint clear polish all over the tips of my fingers.

All done.

I couldn’t wait to get another kit.

And another.

And another.

But you know what?  There came a time when I grew up, and however much I liked the feeling I got when I ripped open those make-up kits . . . I didn’t try to find them in the toy aisle anymore.  I could spend my paycheck on kiddie makeup kits, it’s true, but there’s a time when plastic lipstick and Frosty-the-snowman powder . . . just don’t cut it anymore.  I want more to my life than 5 minutes of pleasure.  I want real joy that’s lasting.  And that doesn’t come from a two-inch tissue box or a set of fake fingernails.

Our message at church this Sunday was on maturity.  I want maturity.  I don’t want to spend my life ripping into kits of purposeless, selfish time waste.  In other words, I don’t want to spend my life begging for sin kits–quickie shots of happiness that last about as long as a fake make-up kit in a five-year-old’s hands.

I want maturity.  I want to grow in Christ.  I don’t want to long for cheapie ways Satan can rip off my life.  I want to pursue the everlasting promise of Christ’s love.

Brothers and sisters, stop thinking like children. In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking be adults. (1 Corinthians 14:20, NIV)


Photograph by Kris Arnold, profile on

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