Why You Should Cry Over Spilled…Fruit Punch
Shortly after returning from an awesome bible study today on, “This Mask Is Killing Us” with Dr. Trenace Richardson, I found myself extremely hungry. So like any human who craves food, and has access to such a gratifying commodity, I went to my refrigerator to retrieve that which would provide me with delight: bacon and eggs. Anyway, upon opening the refrigerator, I found a tall glass of red fruit punch that my busy husband had obviously placed on the center rack. I did a quick assessment, and thought about how I could strategically get to the eggs and bacon without hitting the drink. I was tired and did not feel like dumping the glass into the sink—I know it sounds lazy…. because it was—I could only think about getting food.
I reached toward the eggs, maneuvering ever so carefully, to ensure the expeditious fulfillment of my desires—take the food out quickly, cook it and then you can eat. Just when I was about to achieve my goal, the slightest move of my elbow grazed the tip of the glass and red juice came gushing onto the second and third shelves…. then off onto the floor.
Now with, any mistake that is as drastic as this one (kidding), it would only be suitable to respond like any rational being: I yelled. I yelled bloody murder! This was the last thing I wanted to happen.
I was so upset. It would take me longer to eat my food. After I finished yelling, and calmed down, I laughed to myself, thinking: Wouldn’t it have been easier to just have taken the drink out of the refrigerator? The thought was brief so I continued cleaning up, not realizing I was still being lazy.
I didn’t want to take anything out of the refrigerator, because as stated before, I was and still am hungry.
I began wiping down the items covered in red juice, with paper towels. I attempted to ignore the same voice that I ignored the first time around with the glass. But this time, I’d learned my lesson. I decided to take the items out, and discovered, there was juice everywhere. This only pissed me off! Not only that but, the items I placed on the counter stained the white finishing and the red juice that had dripped onto the floor had me scrubbing for the longest period of time. In fact, I will have to go back to my floor after writing this post.
That’s when it dawned on me. Everything that had happened was connected to what I’d just learned in bible study. We sometimes have issues in our lives that have been placed there by other people; shelved into areas of our hearts that have become cold. Not realizing that these issues are still open—like that glass—we function, hoping that one day those hidden pains will never come to surface.
We delicately move around our deep-seated issues and try to ignore them. Never acknowledging our open wounds we bleed continuously like the woman with the issue of blood. Dr. Trenace Richardson stated, “Bleeding is dying a slow death by not choosing life.” Failing to deal with our junk, could potentially cause one false move by others to break us and have problems spilling over into our marriages, parenting, friendships, etc. This in turn could kill our relationships and destroy any mental stability.
When we let them spill as opposed to dealing with our past traumas and allowing God to remove them, we have one big mess. We spend more time trying to clean up and sometimes leave stains… stains that are hard to remove.
This all stems from the hunger for acceptance. The need to feel accepted often drives us to hide behind the mask. We fear that others will somehow treat us differently if we are vulnerable enough to show where there is an issue of blood.
Cooking up emotions and behaviors we feel will feed our need to be accepted, will cause more harm than good. Whether we are ourselves or hide behind masks, someone will not be accepting of whomever we decide to present. Since this is the case, we should hunger after something greater, something that will provide us a way to remove that open container of pain, nestled in the cold places of our hearts: God. He can stop the hemorrhaging.
Thanks Dr. Trenace Richardson — www.realwomenrock.org
Morals of the Story:
1) Remove the mask
2) Don’t ignore your wounds
3) Starve your need for acceptance and feed your need to be free.