Letting go of the past is not easy.  Being forgiven for our mistakes and being washed clean from sin is one thing, but getting rid of the messy stink of the past is another thing altogether.  We are aware that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin, and that those sins were atoned for on the cross, but getting over the feeling of guilt, and shame, and hurt, is easier said than done.  Sometimes it feels like there’s just too much stuff to dispose of, and that eventually God’s going to say, “Enough!  I can’t take any more of your junk!”  It’s like our spiritual drain gets clogged and stuff starts to back up.  “Pray harder,” they tell us.  Or, “You just have to bear the consequences.  You got yourself into this mess; you’ll have to deal with it.”

What do you do when your spiritual drain gets clogged?  When there’s just too much to deal with?

The following true story is taken from chapter 5 of my book, Call It Incredible.   The story highlights interaction between Pastor Ron Cox and an unforgettable member of our church named Clifton Wells who was always willing to help anyone in need– especially his pastor.  Among other things, Brother Wells was a plumber and clogged drains were no big deal.

Brother Cliff Wells had worked tirelessly as a maintenance worker all of his life. He was one of those rare gentlemen who could fix just about anything.  Brother Wells was a short, rotund fellow who always sported a wide grin and friendly eyes, and spoke with a conspicuous lisp. He kept his straight silver hair tucked away neatly under a gray pinstriped railroad hat he wore every day except Sunday.

After one of Ron’s wife’s cooking binges Ron came in to find the kitchen sink clogged with all kinds of food waste. The Coxes didn’t have a garbage disposal, but his wife Glenda often used the sink drain as a trash pail just the same. All evening Ron tried in vain to unclog the sink, but could get nowhere. Even a trip to the store to buy drain opening chemicals and other plumbing paraphernalia yielded no success, so Ron made a quick call to Brother Wells to request his help the next morning. Meanwhile the backed up sink remained a lake of nasty water, grease, eggshells, and vegetables.

Brother Wells arrived bright and early the next day, wearing his familiar railroad cap and a smile. Eager to give aid to his beloved pastor, he unloaded his tools and began to help Ron with the stubborn sink. After about thirty minutes of fruitless effort, Brother Wells took off his pinstriped cap, scratched his head, and breathed a sigh of frustration. “Bwotha Cox,” he said with his familiar lisp, “I don’t know if I’ve evah seen a dwain in quite dis bad a shape! What do ya weckon Miss Gwenda put down dis sink?” Cliff was seriously concerned, but Ron could barely keep from chuckling aloud in amusement.

“I don’t know Brother Wells, but she did cook turnip greens and made a squash casserole yesterday afternoon,” Ron gleefully responded, now enjoying every minute of their kitchen quandry.

“I tink we’re goin to need someting stwonga to get dis job done,” Cliff said as he squatted down to inspect the pipes under the sink. “Pweacha, I beweave we might need d’call wota woota.” Ron felt on the verge of laughter, but didn’t want Brother Wells to be offended, since he had been so kind to volunteer to help him. He regained his composure, and then remembered something he had recently discovered in the basement.

“Brother Wells, I have something that might just help us. I found it the other day among a bunch of half used cans of spray paint in a box downstairs. Here it is. It’s called a ‘plumbers bomb’.”

“Well I’ve nevah heard of one of dem, Pweacha,” he said. “How’s it work?” Ron read the directions for use on the metal canister and responded,

“It says to aim it into the sink and then press the red release button. It’s supposed to send air into the sink and dislodge the clog,” Ron reported. Why don’t we try it? What have we got to lose?”

“Okay, Bwotha Cox. Twy it. Maybe it’s just what we’ve been wooking for,” Brother Wells said, joining the pastor in his enthusiasm for the idea. Ron placed the canister firmly into the right sink drain while the happy plumber peered over his left shoulder. The very second the air bomb was released, the pipes under the sink were blown apart at the joints, and a geyser of mucky water came jetting out of the left sink drain just like Old Faithful—straight into Brother Wells’ face!   Spitting and spurting out a mouthful of nasty water, he wiped wet pieces of turnip greens and egg shells from his face, trying to see what had just happened. With his glasses barely hanging off the end of his nose, the kind old gentleman surveyed the damage and exclaimed, “Whew wee, Pweacha! I beweave ‘dat willy was a bomb!” 

There’s no intended allegory here.  God’s is not like a kitchen sink.  There’s never too much waste for Him to handle.  The only thing that gets clogged is our mind– lying to us and telling us that God is not enough.  God IS enough.  His mercy is everlasting, and his love is unlimited.  Trust Him to deal with your mess.

“How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!”       Hebrews 9:14