Warning Beeps and Cover-Ups
It was only a couple months ago that one of my DIY projects fell out of my arms and made a couple tiny dents in our car. I told my husband, and I was relieved he wasn’t upset. He even made the appointment with our local dent wizard, who made them disappear completely (highly recommend!).
Last week, after a trip for groceries, I thought I’d make it easy for our visiting daughter to unload her paper bags into our garage fridge by backing into the garage. Besides storing a geriatric four-wheeler, a yellow ‘73 Saab, a yellow ’78 moped, hockey gear, camping gear, tack, projects, tools, auto supplies and lumber, (yeah, I’m probably a hoarder) it also stores things that belong in a lawn shed: lawn mower, weed eaters, rakes, planters, umbrellas, cushions, etc. IT’S CROWDED, okay?
As I backed in, I heard the “beep…beep, BEEP!” of the camera over the license plate. It got faster and more urgent, but looking at the camera, nothing was directly behind me. I figured the arrow was pointing to the plethora of stuff on the shelves next to my car, so I ignored the warning… “THUNK!”
I pulled forward, then backed in all the way before checking the damage: no dent, just a little scrape I could easily wax out, and a chip in the paint about the size of a pencil eraser. Mortified that I was so stupid as to ignore the warning beeps and hit the lawn mower (or something), my first thought was to hide it from my husband, who was working that night. I even bought a matching color of paint when I went to town the next day and planned to paint it when I had time to do it right. I figured I could hide it and forget about it, but the guilt of not saying anything for a day was weighing heavier and heavier on my conscience. On my way to South Dakota to see my mom the next day, I was reminded that keeping anything secret from my husband was sinning against God, who calls us to live in truth and in love and to confess our faults to one another.
Think about it: The warning beep was like the Holy Spirit when He taps us on the shoulder and whispers, “Hey, be careful here. Watch out!” I kept going my own way when I should have stopped, exited the car and inspected the situation from the perspective of the camera. God sees all the places where we are at risk of messing up and He knows the final outcome of our actions and reactions. I assumed I was fine, that I knew more than the camera which beeps when a car is approaching from two lanes away. I’d heard the beeps before and had gotten used to them.
When we realize we messed up, that we missed the mark (the very definition of sin), we feel regret. I hate feeling regret. I had two choices: I could face the music and come clean with my shame and fear of possibly upsetting my husband by admitting I damaged our car AGAIN, or I could conceal the tiny chip under paint and wax, and stay in my shame and fear, waiting for the day he’d notice and ask, “What happened here?” Whether he’d ever notice or not, I’d feel shame, fear and regret every time I saw the spot because I didn’t confess it. Concealing it would not make it go away (like Edgar Allen Poe's "The Telltale Heart").
Thankfully, my husband wasn’t upset at all. I’d been worried for nothing. Maybe announcing, “I have to tell you what I did,” introduces a fear of the worst, so that a tiny paint chip pales in comparison to “I burned the house down,” “I ran over your dog,” or any other number of accidents or indiscretions that would have more serious implications and life-changing outcomes. We always expect the worst, it seems.
What I learned is that the little white lies, the little cover-ups, are still sin, just like the big ones. Like our pastor says, “Whether you’re going two miles over the speed limit or twenty, you’re still breaking the law.” It’s the earthly consequences that are different. [We all have earthly consequences for our deeds, but repenting believers won’t pay for their sins eternally -Jesus paid it all; unbelievers who don’t accept Jesus’s blood-signed check covering their sins will pay their debt themselves, eternally.]
I also learned that I shouldn’t assume I know anything. I should have heeded the warning beeps and I should have told my husband immediately, not days later. I shouldn’t have assumed he’d be upset. He’s actually a pretty nice guy, and I love him.
I thank the Lord for the lessons He teaches when our hearts are trained on Him. Now, I’m going to call the dent wizard and see what it will cost to “make it like it never happened”- that’s like what God promises to do with our sin when we accept by faith that Jesus paid the price for them. He remembers them no more. We confess and repent because sin puts up a barrier between us and God; it can be as tiny and seemingly harmless as that little paint chip, which, for a while seemed to me like prison bars.