Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Moldy Peaches

I hate mold. It was one of the most repulsively disgusting things in the world. When I work in the cafeteria at school, and I have to touch a moldy peach, or a moldy anything, I always almost throw up. I run to the trash can, toss it and wash my hands with boiling water and tons of soap. I'm afraid that if I touch the mold, it will start growing all over my body.

Last weekend I was in Visalia, CA with Providence's choir singing at a donors banquet. On Sunday we worshiped at Hanford Christian Reformed Church, and the guest pastor preached on sin. He compared sin to mold, and that analogy stuck with me because of my intense hatred for mold.

If I could think of mold growing on my skin, on my heart, mind, and soul, every time I knowingly engage in sin, perhaps I would be less inclined to sin.

Isn't that was sin is like though? It perverts what is good, and it destroys us, and eventually leads to death.

Peaches are beautiful and delicious, but mold perverts that peach and turns it into a mushy, green, fuzzy glump of useless inedible shit. If I am a peach, and sin is mold, then I would like nothing to do with sin, please.

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