As we enter the Realm of Spring, here in the UK we have a precipitation of nothing more than fine drizzle that is despondently damp, the net result being we spend most days feeling rather moister than we would like to be. Our moistness creates mould in our bathrooms and nooks and crannies within our homes, until the time comes when we can throw open our windows and invite ventilating breezes to whisk away the wetness that has pervaded us during the winter months.
Such is the problem Chez Moi. As I stand in the shower, naked as the day I was born, the splendid celestial sphere which, in its rising morning glory is sending lesser stars scurrying to their daytime repose whilst shining through my bathroom window, I am left hoping that this wondrous luminosity has more than the benefit of light attached to it as I gaze upon the growth, ever creeping inexorably towards domination, that spoils the purity of paintwork with its spores of blackness. Is there a product that can cure the seemingly never ending fight for supremacy of ceiling, walls and grout?
For me to perceive the mould growing above my head is an unwanted visitor, although unlikely to fall like the Sword of Damocles upon the unguarded cathartic cleanser below, it is an opposing force to the cleanliness that I desire and strive for in the shower beneath its spreading infiltration. I know that amongst many other things, it is a factor in my life that is less than desirable.
Likewise, at some point in each of us, there will be a recognition of the mould that collects in the corners of our lives and a reaction to it will need to be made, one way or the other. The mould we allow to grow in our lives not only affects our ability to live happily with others, but also the ability to live happily with ourselves. This Springtime, when we open the windows to rid ourselves of the mould that grows in our homes, why not rid ourselves of the mould that grows within us, so that we can live effectively and happily with each other too.
At the root of the Christian faith is the belief of life after death, where all the things we have done wrong to ourselves and to others are bleached away and remembered no more, but it is first necessary for us to recognise that our mouldy baggage we carry with us through life can be expunged by laying it at the foot of the empty Easter Cross where there is forgiveness.
This Easter time, when the Christian country in which we live celebrates the hope that every generation spends a great deal of time and energy contemplating – the mystery of the hereafter, life after death, a place where there shall be no more tears – we don’t have to look far to see that we live in a world that is far from perfect. We live in societies that need order to survive, rules and regulations to maintain peace and harmonious living. Where, when more than a few people co-exist, it is not possible to live in close proximity with each other without such measures being in place, because although in a perfect utopian society there would be no need for such confines, within each and every one of us, there is an ability to cause friction and harm to the peaceful concord we so earnestly strive for and endeavour to preserve. In each of us, in our hidden centres, at the very core of our beings, we know the difference between going over to the dark side or staying on the bright side of the road, the difference between doing the right thing or getting caught doing the wrong thing and each of us has a choice to make when confronted with these differing paths.
A came out of the WC, the ‘facilities’, having performed his ablutions, I enquired if he had lifted the seat before going. Every parent will have at some point made the same mistake of not checking the seat prior to using a recently used toilet, resulting in an unpleasant and very unwelcome sudden moistness of the lower regions. Had A lifted the seat? “Yes,” he replied.
Like Peter who, when questioned 3 times in a row, gave an answer that was less than truthful, A replied 3 times that he has lifted the seat before going and had returned it to its former position thereafter. Resorting to a final method of questioning, I asked him, “I will ask you this once more. As I am about to go in there, where you have just been and sit upon that seat, did you lift it before going?” A hung his head in shame. “No” he whispered…… “Thank you” I replied, “I shall wipe it before I get a moist shock”.
Was that so hard? Was my question not simple enough? Are we born with the predetermined ability to lie first, even though as parents, we can usually see it a mile off?
My hope for each of us this Easter is that we can recognise our need for inner cleansing and we open ourselves to the Great Mould Inspector, who keeps the record of our whole life, in so doing we allow the wiping away of all those spreading spores that pollute, hold and bind us, so that we can live free and happy lives with our fellow creatures.
Carry on regardless!