Get Into The Closet

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he events of childhood leave an indelible mark on our lives whether we remember them or not.  There is the first step, the first tooth, the first word, the first fall, the first skinned knee, the first bike ride, the first birthday cake, etc.  All of these are memorable and are usually recorded on film, on video cassette or in special albums.  These moments are replayed at family reunions or from time to time when we just need a stroll down memory lane.

There is another experience, however, that we can all point to, one that is forever fixed in our minds.  All of us remember a time when we were very frightened, really shaken to our very foundation.  For most people, this is a bad memory and one they try to avoid.  For me, however, the memory is somewhat comical and it becomes more so the more I think about it.

My second grade class was busy doing a classroom assignment that our teacher, Mrs. Jack Putnam, had given for the afternoon.  I remember the assignment vividly because it was math, and math was never one of my best friends.  No one noticed as Mrs. Putnam stole out of the classroom, leaving us with our assistant, Mrs. Beam.  Everyone was working quietly and intently when it happened. 

Suddenly the door flew open, and an old lady with long, stringy hair, a black frock, a huge nose, and a pointed hat came into the room.  She was straddling a broom and she whipped in and out among the desks and chairs in the room.  Kids began screaming, running in all directions, trying desperately to find a safe place to hide.  I was petrified and I began looking for a place to find cover.  All at once, I noticed the sliding door of the coat closet was ajar.  I wasted no time, but ran to the closet, opened the door, jumped in, closed the door and held it shut. I left just a slit just large enough to watch the activity in the classroom without drawing attention to myself.

My heart was racing, especially when that old witch (Mrs. Putnam in disguise) came right by

the closet.  She “flew” past me and left the room.  I refused to come out of that closet for several minutes, wanting to make sure she wouldn't return and start the ruckus all over again.  When everyone settled down, I emerged from my hideout, much to the laughter and teasing of my classmates.  It didn't matter though, that closet had protected me, and had provided a place where I knew nothing or no one could harm me.

Proverbs 18:10 provides a safe haven from the frightening things of life.  The passage reads, “The name of the LORD is a strong tower; The righteous run to it and are safe.”  This passage perfectly describes the events of that memorable day in the second grade.  Like students, we dutifully work on the task God assigns us.  We remain focused, concentrating, doing our best.  Suddenly, out of nowhere it seems, the unexpected happens.  We face a sudden attack from Satan whose one goal is to frighten us, confuse, us, and scatter us.  He knows as long as we are worried, confused, frightened, angry, or frustrated, we are not working with God.

Let that closet be a lesson for all of us.  When we try to find hiding places of our own, we are always exposed and vulnerable.  Mrs. Putnam could see kids under their desks, behind the door, or under a table.  Although they believed they were hidden and safe, they remained in full view, very vulnerable to fear.  The only person she didn't see was me because I had hidden in the closet, completely concealing myself inside it.

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his is what the passage from Proverbs means.  When fear, anxiety, worry, anger, frustration, or anything else tries to separate us from God, we need to run to him.  We need to jump inside, up in his arms, and become completely hidden in him.  Nothing can find us there, nothing can harm us there, and nothing will ever touch as long as we remain hidden in God, our strong tower.  So, how long has it been since you've hidden in the closet?  What’s that?  Did you hear something at the door?