MOVE THE ELEPHANT!

elephant words

I recently walked into my bedroom and let out a shriek as I watched my husband steadily dragging out all–and I do mean ALL–of the contents of my closet. Ahem. Our closet. OK. It’s a shared closet, but evidently I don’t share very well and most of MY contents end up on his side after they tumble down the mountain of my side.

I was horrified to find them now smack dab in the middle of our bedroom floor. Where I was forced to look at them. Stare at them. Where I could no longer avoid them. They’d been the elephant in the room for years.

I huffed and I puffed, and I just about blew our bedroom walls down with my rumbling and grumbling.

What in the world was he thinking? I’d just worked so hard cleaning up our room, making it presentation pretty. So I could put my tired feet up and admire the fruits of my labor. Did he not KNOW how much energy and sweat it takes to keep that burly elephant crammed into that closet?

The LAST thing I wanted to look at now was MY JUNK from behind those doors! That would defeat the purpose of all that shoving down and covering up.

He snapped my thought in two when he said, “Hey, I’m just holding you accountable Christie. You SAID you were ready to clean out the closet. Now are you, or aren’t you? And sometimes you just gotta deconstruct before you can reconstruct.”

I glared back at him, sent daggers of stares at him and the elephant, and then loudly exhaled my way out of the room, nearly taking the door knob with me, and leaving a cloud of exhaust fumes in my wake. Along with broken pieces of my pride scattered on the carpet.

I mean, just because I said I WANTED to do something, didn’t mean I really meant it. Do you know what I mean? You do know what I mean, don’t you? Don’t you?

I let the exhaust and my head clear before I realized he was right. But it was just wrong. I didn’t like it one bit.

And I kind of liked the massive elephant in my closet and in the middle of our messy life. He’d been with us for so long. I fed him frequently, and he might as well have been our family pet. Maybe he could just mosey on through to the back yard now. I hardly saw him. He wasn’t getting in the way. And I barely felt him. (Hold on, I can barely breathe now–for some reason I feel like an elephant’s sitting on my chest.)

Inhale. Exhale. OK I got it. I see him. Now. The truth is, we can’t change what we don’t see. What we don’t choose to look at. And Jesus longs to touch and to transform what we willingly place in His hands. Hands that are large enough to accommodate our elephant-sized issues. He wants to sit down with us and sort it all out beside us.

I’m like you. I just want freedom. But I don’t actually want the work-zone and the heavy elephant lifting that leads to it. Or the broken pieces of my life laid out on the floor before me.

Yet freedom is on the other side of a transparent heart that’s courageous enough to lay it all down. To put it all out there. It’s on the other side of that mountain of an elephant.

But you don’t have to move it alone.  Jesus can send Him packing with a single pinky push. You just have to give Him the Word.

And fear not. He went before you, hung for you, clung for you, on the mountain of Calvary, and now goes with you.

So let’s keep going. We can’t give up or back down. Let’s keep wading through our mess and weeding through our piles with Jesus at our side.

Have you sent some elephants of fear and doubt packing this week, loaded down with tattered boxes of unforgiveness and shame? If so, let me know and invite me over to the victory dinner. I’m ready for an elephant roast paired with a big ‘ole slice of freedom pie. I can almost see it from here.

“I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?” Jeremiah 32:27

I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people. Ephesians 1:18

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