I bought some new black socks. I opened the package, and that faint chemical odor new clothes have attacked my nose. After a good wash and adequate dry, they are ready for my feet. I love to put on socks right out of the dryer on a cold Colorado day. A warm cotton therapy session before work. In those moments of bliss, evil awakens. Seeds of destruction, in the form of tiny black threads, somehow burrow into my toe nails. From side to side my toe nails have a curvature. I try to stick to my rule of, if I see white, I trim. When I gain weight, it becomes difficult to get my toes just right. As I jog, and lift, the bulge of my belly recedes and I see tiny black cheese balls stuffed deep under the nail of my toe. Aged all winter long, they are a festering stench. To combat the smell, I could wash my socks, over and over. Even if I wore new shoes every day, they would still smell. I could use chemicals and sprays to fight the battle, but the source of evil would endure. The only solution, is to get a file designed to excavate that putrescence of evil that rots under my toenail. Though some pain, and perseverance the tiny slimy strand is beaten. A good foot scrub in the shower with a brave loofah sponge is the chaser. Finally, the odor is vanquished into a the dark abyss of the drain.
I may say I am a good person. “I washed my socks today!” But, if there a patch of festering lint lodged in my soul, am I really a good person? Perhaps the stench of my entombed secret is hurting the proverbial noses of those around me. I may shout, “I bought new shoes!” Did that solve the problem? My attitude is toxic because of my laziness has anchored me from doing a complete clean of myself. I consider comments ‘flat’ when they sound like this; “I did the dishes!” Ok great, but, how well. Did you just cram them in the dishwasher without a prewash? Did you scrub? Was the water hot? Ambiguity lies within ‘flat’ statements. Another one of my favorites is that store brand soda tastes the same as name brand. In my opinion, it does not. “I bought you soda. Just drink it, it tastes the same.” Uhm yeah, no it doesn’t. ‘Flat’ statements.
A person can offer the self proclaimed statement of, “I am a Christian!” Isn’t that vague? What does that mean? A preacher who screams and yells at someone who simply trying to sell you business cards? (Yes, that happened to me). A cheap ‘Nickle Denter’ who won’t tip on Sunday afternoon? A walking human file of judgmental banter and acidic hatred? A human grudge archive? Perhaps my willingness to remove my soul lint will un-flatten the term for me. I might accept the term of Christian to mean; One who realized there is evil hidden under their toes? Attempts are not made to hide it with clean socks, new shoes, and sprayed air fresheners. For me, use the term of Christian requires true cleanliness. Step one, I must admit I have a toe jam problem. I realize I am a ‘Self Aware Sinner’, and I may require a ‘Self Sacrificed Savior’ to dislodge that smelly evil lint lodged under my heart.
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert