How Muddy is too Muddy

Every kid should have the opportunity to grow up in a carefree, happy-go-lucky environment without all the troublesome things that they have to worry about in today’s society. 

Things were different when I was a lad.  There wasn’t the fear of being physically abused or harmed in any way, and parents did not fret over someone abducting their child.  It just didn’t happen where I grew up. 

Martinez, California, a small bedroom community near San Francisco, was a tranquil place where a person could enjoy a stress free life without all the woes that we hear so much of today.  Respect for the law and the rights of others were valued and a principled way to live—a code of ethics as it were. 

Today’s moral and ethical values are crumbling quickly.  I believe it is because of the lack of parental guidance and the absence of a male figure in the home and the filth being shown on computer screens and television shows—morality is swiftly being eroded. 

The news media glorifying crimes and mayhem to get higher ratings is also lending to the tearing down of ideals in our country.  How sad it is that disorder is the theme of most reporters, because bad news and smut sell.

In my youth, marriage was a sacred and meaningful union between a man and woman; divorce was seldom the answer.  It was for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part.  I am afraid that too many people enter marriage with the idea that if it doesn’t work, they’ll go their separate ways.  What about the children?

On a less solemn note, the word television was not in my vocabulary as a child.  We didn’t have one in our home.  In my household, a bible had its rightful and just place on the coffee table in the living room, not gathering dust, but being read frequently by my parents. 

I knew the power of prayer when Dad asked Jesus to heal me when I was sick.  At night, from my bedroom, I could hear Dad praying for our needs and the needs of others before he went to sleep.  I was raised to have confidence in God that He would help me in every situation of life and that He loved me very much. 

Songs filled our home day and night about the love of Jesus.  I can still hear my mom singing them.  She loved Jesus and wanted me to learn of His love and to follow Him as well… which brings me to today’s thought and the title above, “How Muddy is too Muddy.” 

I guess I could have titled this writing, “Discipline” because Mom and Dad believed and taught the meaning of obedience to their four children, to have respect for elders and authority over us, which involved an occasional talking-to or the paddling of my behind—“A trip to the woodshed,” as my dad would say.  Never was he excessive or abusive.  It was to teach me that there are consequences for my ill-mannered behavior.

I was a typical kid that loved to romp and play and do the things that kids do at this age.  No one had to teach me how to get dirty.  It was an everyday occurrence, a fact of life when growing up and playing with my buddies around the neighborhood. 

I must say, Mom was not happy when I mixed water and dirt together to make a wonderful concoction called, mud.  It was the creativity of resourcefulness and ingenuity of mixing two components together to blend just the right consistency to make mud pies, mud balls, and mud-walled forts that protected my toy, army men from impending dangers that lurked outside the walls.

When boredom raised its ugly head, my friends and I did what most venturous kids do.  It started with a very small amount of mud being slung.  Not that much, but just enough to set the mood for the next few minutes of fun in the sun. 

Mom wasn’t around, and yes, I was just an innocent by-stander that just got in the way somehow.  The small amounts of mud turned into an all-out mud fight.  The consequences of my actions were far from logical thinking at that moment as a blob of mud hit my cheekbone and splashed into my eye and open mouth, which left me vulnerable when washing it out with the garden hose. 

The taste of mud was unpleasant and gritty between my teeth.  The odor was unsavory and gross.    Splat…this time an earful of the brown, gushy mud filled my right ear, affecting my ability to hear.

You know how boys are.  They don’t know when enough is enough.  With filthy, mud-splattered trousers and shirt, and hair a different color now, I wondered how muddy is too muddy?  What would Mom say? 

If we would have been happy throwing small amounts of mud, I probably would not have worried so much about getting in trouble.  Things went south in a hurry and the consequences for my actions hung over my head like a dark cloud, unless I could hide it someway from Mom.

It wasn’t so much that she had to work harder to get my cloths clean in her old, Maytag, ringer washer, and hang them on the backyard cloth line to dry, Mom was worried about my eyesight and eardrums being injured.

Grabbing the garden hose, I frantically started hosing myself off in hopes of getting rid of the telltale evidence before she saw me.  The mess was not as messy as it was, but the stain was there.  What now?  What should I do?  I guess I would have to face the music anyway.  I wish I had it to do over.  I’ll tell her that it was the other guy’s fault that I got so muddy.  Yeah right, that will go over like a lead balloon.

How many times do we fail, as adults, to give thought to the things we watch on television, thinking that we are mature enough to deal with the violence, language, sexually explicit innuendoes, and the immoral overtones that writers and directors purposely put in their movies?  It leaves stains in our subconscious that are hard to get out once embedded. 

What we allow to enter our eye and ear gate can, in time, affect the taste in our mouth and having the smell of dirt.  Our words and actions surprise us at times and we ask ourselves, “Where did that come from?”  If we think it through, we will know.

Years ago, being a new Christian, I was trying to live for Christ by doing and saying that which pleased God.  I remember one day at work backing into a piece of steel rebar that was sticking out of the forms that were erected for an upcoming concrete pour.  You would have thought I had committed the unpardonable sin when I blurted out, “Damn it!”

I felt bad and immediately asked God to forgive me.  It wasn’t so much the word that offended me; it was the thought of displeasing God.  How often do we get into situations that we wish we had a do-over?  It was that kind of feeling. 

Are the words we use or the things we do pleasing to God?  Do they bother us as much today as they may have in the past?  If not, we better take note of the things we are feeding our subconscious through the eye and ear gate.  They are becoming injured, which will affect the whole body.  What we do and say can influence others.

We are in a sad state of affairs if we think we are okay, but when we ask ourselves are we as close to God and sensitive to His voice as we once were, and the answer comes back, “No.”  We need to do something about it before we are engulfed with indifference.

When we let down our spiritual guard and allow a small handful of mud to find its mark, perhaps our eyesight and hearing becomes affected like the shirt and pants in the story.  In time if we allow the mud to increase, stains will be the negative result. 

How muddy is too muddy before we do something about it?  Are PG rated movies okay?  What about PG-13, or R, or X or XXX rated?  Where do we draw the line on garbage input?

A computer term is this: “Garbage in, garbage out.”  Our Christian responsibility is to strive to become more like Jesus rather than falling into condemnation, because of our willful, obstinate naughtiness behind closed doors. 

People around us observe what we do and say, but our children are taking note of how we live.  Do as I say, not as I do will shatter respect faster than quick can get ready. 

Actions speak louder than words.  We must be the example of a Christ-filled life, a light to show the way, like my parents were to me.  Believers are the seasoning that offsets the bad taste of mud that the world slings our way.

(Matthew 4:13-16), “You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?  It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men.”  vs.14 “You are the light of the world.  A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden.”  vs.15 “Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lamp stand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.”  vs.16 “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Written by,

Papa Boyd