Poo in the pool CrossPurposes
Poo in the pool. CrossPurposes 156
The house we had at Woonona, during my leave-of-absence, had a pool. We weren’t looking for a pool, but given there was a pool we were determined to get as much use out of it as possible. It took a while but I learned how to care for a pool. I’d even venture to say I mastered the skill. Mind you, it was a chore, and a relentless one at that!
It was all good, except for the ducks. Ah, that wretched family of half-a-dozen ducks. When we got to Woonona, el nino was still the dominant babe. The great drought of the naughties was yet to break. The ducks needed a place to hang out and swim. Apparently our pool provided all the required facilities. Without so much as inquiring about a lease, they ‘settled’ on our pool. They were true squatters and wouldn’t look after the place. I’d go down for a dip and our feathered friends would take noisy flight, leaving duck-poo on the fences, around the pool edge, and of course floating in the water. It tended to be a turn-off for water-based recreation.
Many means were used to try to wean the ducks from the pool. I could hear the beggars as they gathered. I could see exactly where they were from a window in my office. Early on, I’d sneak down, chunk of brick in hand, and hurl it at the corrugated-iron fence. Yes, it frightened them away – for a while. But they kept coming back, always leaving behind what came from their behinds. I’d hear that quaack, quaaack, and it would drive me nuts. My next approach was to take one of my yard brooms and hurl it over the fence into the pool. The shocked birds would fly away. But they left behind even more of what frightened birds always leave behind. The pool area smelt like how I reckon Nauru would smell.
The quaacks continued. Desperate Fred realized a new strategy was needed. An air rifle would be great, but also illegal. Instead, he went to the newsagent and bought the strongest rubber bands to be had. Given the unavailability of a willow fork, he went home and fashioned some heavy gauge wire into a good old catapault. Went to Bunnings and bought ammunition in the form of staples that farmers use to fasten fence wire to wooden posts. I was now in possession of a potent, if dangerous, weapon.
Next time I heard those offensive and invasive ducks I gently opened my office window and set myself up as a sniper! I must have fired 40-50 times. A lot of staples hit the fence with a high-pitched ping, which caused the nearest duck a moment’s discomfort before it settled down again. A lot of those staples hit brick pillars and ricocheted around the pool area or into the garden. Many of my ‘shots’ missed the pool fence completely and sailed (harmlessly?) into the Franklins carpark beyond. I never hit a single duck. They were unmoved by my efforts, continued to pollute the pool, caused me no end of grief and denied me a comforting dip.
Finally I talked to the expert. Allan from Pool Care advised me to put a pool-cover on the pool. Desperate people do take advice, whatever the cost. The pool cover was purchased, delivered and installed within a week. And the ducks left. And didn’t come back. All because of a pool cover. The maths was simple. No pool cover = poo. Pool cover = no poo! I was free to live, to exult, to enjoy a swim.
Why have I told this tale? Well, for one thing, I like telling stories. Really though, it’s amazing how life’s experiences can amplify truths we need to know from the Jesus Christ story. My duck-poo story has to do with poo in the pool of our lives. It has to do with soul-pollution and guilt. Especially the way guilt has a way of sticking around and mucking up our lives, our relationships and our experience of the Lordship of Jesus. There is not one of us who hasn’t got a ‘history’ somewhere. As often as not, no one else knows about it. It’s something about ‘me’, what I said or did, or what I didn’t do, that had consequences for me or for others. It doesn’t matter that others may not know. I know, and God knows. (The devil knows too!) An awful lot of energy is consumed in suppressing or denying shame and guilt. Unacknowledged shame and guilt cripples me and distorts me. It therefore affects all my relationships. It kills joy, inhibits inner-peace, and cripples my freedom to love. It results in a permanent sense of alienation in relationship with God and others.
The solution? Many people can suggest solutions, including counselling. Others just resolve to forget about it and get on with life. Some seek peace by getting involved in a ‘good’ project as a way of atonement. I’ll suggest what I believe is the Gospel of Jesus Christ way. Get covered and stay covered. One of those little choruses has a wonderfully simple way of saying it:
I am covered over with the robe of righteousness that Jesus gives to me.
I am covered over with the precious blood of Jesus and he lives in me.
What a joy it is to know my heavenly Father loves me so and gives to me my Jesus.
When he looks at me he sees not what I used to be, but he sees Jesus. (Anon)
You see, the devil relishes stirring in the poo-pot of our life. He operates in the area of unexamined and unconfessed sin. He’s a master at reminding us of failure, of the shameful, of our guilt! On the other hand the Spirit of Jesus tells us that God no longer remembers our sin when it’s repented and forgiven. Or as wise old Paul wrote, “There is, therefore, no condemnation now for those in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1) The devil is free to smear our crap all over us if we are not in forgiveness, in Christ. Wherever there is forgiveness it’s the devil who has no freedom! He can’t make anything stick on Jesus, and therefore he can’t make anything stick on the ‘forgiven’ you.
And one other thing from a source I no longer remember: “If the devil reminds you of your past, remind him of his future!”
So get covered and stay covered.
Summer’s on the way. Happy swimming.
Fred
The house we had at Woonona, during my leave-of-absence, had a pool. We weren’t looking for a pool, but given there was a pool we were determined to get as much use out of it as possible. It took a while but I learned how to care for a pool. I’d even venture to say I mastered the skill. Mind you, it was a chore, and a relentless one at that!
It was all good, except for the ducks. Ah, that wretched family of half-a-dozen ducks. When we got to Woonona, el nino was still the dominant babe. The great drought of the naughties was yet to break. The ducks needed a place to hang out and swim. Apparently our pool provided all the required facilities. Without so much as inquiring about a lease, they ‘settled’ on our pool. They were true squatters and wouldn’t look after the place. I’d go down for a dip and our feathered friends would take noisy flight, leaving duck-poo on the fences, around the pool edge, and of course floating in the water. It tended to be a turn-off for water-based recreation.
Many means were used to try to wean the ducks from the pool. I could hear the beggars as they gathered. I could see exactly where they were from a window in my office. Early on, I’d sneak down, chunk of brick in hand, and hurl it at the corrugated-iron fence. Yes, it frightened them away – for a while. But they kept coming back, always leaving behind what came from their behinds. I’d hear that quaack, quaaack, and it would drive me nuts. My next approach was to take one of my yard brooms and hurl it over the fence into the pool. The shocked birds would fly away. But they left behind even more of what frightened birds always leave behind. The pool area smelt like how I reckon Nauru would smell.
The quaacks continued. Desperate Fred realized a new strategy was needed. An air rifle would be great, but also illegal. Instead, he went to the newsagent and bought the strongest rubber bands to be had. Given the unavailability of a willow fork, he went home and fashioned some heavy gauge wire into a good old catapault. Went to Bunnings and bought ammunition in the form of staples that farmers use to fasten fence wire to wooden posts. I was now in possession of a potent, if dangerous, weapon.
Next time I heard those offensive and invasive ducks I gently opened my office window and set myself up as a sniper! I must have fired 40-50 times. A lot of staples hit the fence with a high-pitched ping, which caused the nearest duck a moment’s discomfort before it settled down again. A lot of those staples hit brick pillars and ricocheted around the pool area or into the garden. Many of my ‘shots’ missed the pool fence completely and sailed (harmlessly?) into the Franklins carpark beyond. I never hit a single duck. They were unmoved by my efforts, continued to pollute the pool, caused me no end of grief and denied me a comforting dip.
Finally I talked to the expert. Allan from Pool Care advised me to put a pool-cover on the pool. Desperate people do take advice, whatever the cost. The pool cover was purchased, delivered and installed within a week. And the ducks left. And didn’t come back. All because of a pool cover. The maths was simple. No pool cover = poo. Pool cover = no poo! I was free to live, to exult, to enjoy a swim.
Why have I told this tale? Well, for one thing, I like telling stories. Really though, it’s amazing how life’s experiences can amplify truths we need to know from the Jesus Christ story. My duck-poo story has to do with poo in the pool of our lives. It has to do with soul-pollution and guilt. Especially the way guilt has a way of sticking around and mucking up our lives, our relationships and our experience of the Lordship of Jesus. There is not one of us who hasn’t got a ‘history’ somewhere. As often as not, no one else knows about it. It’s something about ‘me’, what I said or did, or what I didn’t do, that had consequences for me or for others. It doesn’t matter that others may not know. I know, and God knows. (The devil knows too!) An awful lot of energy is consumed in suppressing or denying shame and guilt. Unacknowledged shame and guilt cripples me and distorts me. It therefore affects all my relationships. It kills joy, inhibits inner-peace, and cripples my freedom to love. It results in a permanent sense of alienation in relationship with God and others.
The solution? Many people can suggest solutions, including counselling. Others just resolve to forget about it and get on with life. Some seek peace by getting involved in a ‘good’ project as a way of atonement. I’ll suggest what I believe is the Gospel of Jesus Christ way. Get covered and stay covered. One of those little choruses has a wonderfully simple way of saying it:
I am covered over with the robe of righteousness that Jesus gives to me.
I am covered over with the precious blood of Jesus and he lives in me.
What a joy it is to know my heavenly Father loves me so and gives to me my Jesus.
When he looks at me he sees not what I used to be, but he sees Jesus. (Anon)
You see, the devil relishes stirring in the poo-pot of our life. He operates in the area of unexamined and unconfessed sin. He’s a master at reminding us of failure, of the shameful, of our guilt! On the other hand the Spirit of Jesus tells us that God no longer remembers our sin when it’s repented and forgiven. Or as wise old Paul wrote, “There is, therefore, no condemnation now for those in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1) The devil is free to smear our crap all over us if we are not in forgiveness, in Christ. Wherever there is forgiveness it’s the devil who has no freedom! He can’t make anything stick on Jesus, and therefore he can’t make anything stick on the ‘forgiven’ you.
And one other thing from a source I no longer remember: “If the devil reminds you of your past, remind him of his future!”
So get covered and stay covered.
Summer’s on the way. Happy swimming.
Fred
posted by PastorFredVeerhuis at 9:15 AM
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