Mercifully, there was just the one lady approaching the Tower One lobby. I quickly nodded from a distance, ducked my head and diverted my course for the grass where I could bleed out in privacy. Once it became evident that this was no small problem, I made my way back inside to the men’s room, trying my best to calculate the direct route that had evaded me moments earlier.

Examination in the mirror revealed a cut on the bridge of my nose and a blue whelp just off center between my eye brows. Further, there was the persistent bleeding from my swelling, darkening schnozz.

My beak was obviously bent. I squeezed it back into place, making certain I could breathe out of each nostril, and examined my handiwork. Adjusted a bit. My nose appeared relatively straight when lined up with the tiles on the wall of the men’s room.

But what in the world am I going to tell the staff? I’m already late for our meeting.  If it weren’t for the cut and that growing blue mound, they would never have to know about this incessant buzzing and tightening in my face. I guess I’ll have to be honest about what happened.

That last thought caught my attention.

Why would I not be honest? Here I stand, broken and bleeding, and the devil is tempting me to lie. I’ll admit that it would make matters considerably less embarrassing if I could think up a reasonable alibi.

And then, another thought, from the other side of the arena: I wonder if my identity in Christ applies to this dilemma? That thought I took to be from the Holy Spirit.

You know the answer as well as I do. Of course it applies.

Our Father didn’t call us “accepted” and “secure” so that we could announce it while cruising the streets of heaven. These facts will be self-evident up there. It is here, on this earth, in the Tower One men’s room that I need the confidence of my non-negotiable, immovable, unbending acceptance and security.

And it is during the three-minute walk back to the office that I need to practice setting my mind on this fact. That’s exactly what I did.

As you might suspect, I was late getting to the staff meeting. I took my seat at the head of the conference table and launched into my story about being accosted by hoodlums who took my money and landed one blow to my nose before I successfully fought them off and…, and then I laughed and told them the truth.

What a great reminder.

We know our Father makes provision for the major crises in life, but He works the details just as hard. Just like the friend He is, while I was occupied with keeping the blood off of my shirt and stemming the bleeding, He was encouraging me that I was accepted and secure with Him.

And He had seen me walk into the door. Not even that changed His mind about me.

 

PS        Even though I have shared this with you, please don’t tell anyone else, OK?