Whitney Williams - Pantry confessions

NICK EICHER, HOST: Today is Tuesday, August 31st. Good morning! This is The World and Everything in It from listener-supported WORLD Radio. I’m Nick Eicher.

MARY REICHARD, HOST: And I’m Mary Reichard. Here’s commentator Whitney Williams on cleaning out the pantry.

And I don’t mean a clean one. Like mine.

AUDIO: [Sounds of vacuum]

WHITNEY WILLIAMS, COMMENTATOR: “I’m just nasty. We’re a nasty family and that’s all there is to it,” I thought yesterday as I spied squirmy larvae in our oatmeal, trashed a cocoon-infested spaghetti box, and swatted at the winged disgustingness flying out of my pantry. “If people knew about this nastiness ...” I thought, as I got out my handheld vacuum to clean crumbs from deep, dark, webby corners of our shelves …

Ping. Just then, I got a text from a new friend thanking me for a thank you card I’d sent her.

I texted back: “You’re welcome” with a heart emoji, hit enter a few times and then typed: “Current situation—COLON—pantry moths.” Send.

My pastor calls that being 100 percent known.

My new friend responded that she was so sorry and shared that she’d dealt with pantry moths many years ago and that it was no fun.

“Yep. Nastiness confirmed, Whitney. ONE TIME, just one time this classy lady’s dealt with pantry moths” I thought, “While Mrs. Nasty here has dealt with them HOW MANY TIMES over the last 12 years?”

But then I received another text from her. This woman that I barely knew, this woman who, as far as I could tell, had it all together, shared with me that the night before she heard a loud kathunk on her nightstand and saw a brown flash out of the corner of her eye. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she spotted the largest roach she had ever seen—it was YUUUUGE, she texted me, spelling it with a Y. YUUUUUGE.

I chuckled to myself as I pictured her franticly swatting and bravely (her adjective, but I fully agree with its use in this circumstance) BRAVELY picking up the four-inch roach and disposing of it in the toilet, all while her husband—her protector!—slept peacefully in bed just a few feet away.

Quite honestly, in this Pinterest-perfect, Instagram-filtered world, I think a lot of women would sooner admit to murder than to a roach in her house, but I believe my pantry moth confession shattered the pretense between my new friend and me.

And why should there be pretense among believers, anyway? Christians pretending they are something they’re not, pretending they are better than they actually are, only lessens our testimony ... as if we don’t need Jesus’ saving power as much as the next guy. Yes, confession before God is what matters most, but false fronts don’t help anyone—does the person putting on a false front question whether or not the grace of our Lord is sufficient to cover his sin? Does his fronting benefit his brother in Christ who feels alone in his sin struggle?

There’s a line, of course. Opening one’s larvae-infested sin pantry to the world requires wisdom and discernment. But when it comes to shining light into dark corners, setting traps, and swatting sinfulness, two are better than one.

I’m Whitney Williams.

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