As a dad, I had the greatest job ever when the kids were small.  Before bedtime, I became the boogieman destroyer, monster killer, house protector, and all around hero of the world.  The kids knew no danger would befall them since dad was on the job.  After all, what monster could stand a chance against the power of dad?  Then on one particular day, the unexpected happened.

The routine was the same, bed time prayers, lights out, and the security sweep of the suddenly darkened room.  As usual, I called out the all clear.

Then came the unexpected.

“Dad, there is a monster in my closet.”

“I’ll check it again, son,” I replied in my most fatherly voice.  “All clear, no monsters.”

“Dad, sometimes it is under my bed. Check there.”

Dutifully I got down on floor level and peered under the bed.  As expected, nothing.  I reassured my son and encouraged him to close his eyes and head off to sleep.

“Dad, are you…sure?”

Looking back, I probably should have detected a more than usual level of anxiety in his young voice.  But, I was a hero, not a detective.

“Absolutely positive!”

As a side note, as a parent, whenever you say you are absolutely positive about something, be prepared to be absolutely mistaken.

Covers were pulled up tightly and a kiss on the forehead sent him off to sleep and me off to the upstairs to call it a night.  As a I reached the stairs, the back door was straight ahead and the staircase ascended to my right.  A quick glance at the door assured me it was locked and I was just about to take the journey up the stairs, when something caught my eye that startled me.

It wasn’t the fact that a big bag of dogfood was by the backdoor.  I often left it there to feed our dog outside.

It wasn’t even the fact that the bag was turned on its side opened.  Accidents happen.

No, I think the startling part was…THE BAG WAS MOVING!

As I watched the bag convulse like it was demon possessed, out popped a tail and a rather large tail at that!  I yelled (or maybe screamed like a girl, I forget those details) upstairs and down rushed my wife who I am relatively sure thought I was dying or under assault.  As she hit the bottom stair she followed my finger pointing in the direction of the bag of terror.  Like it was shot out of a cannon, out of the bag tears a rather unhappy possum.  I say unhappy, and I feel certain it was, because it came at us bearing its teeth and looking very angry  and rabid. Now I’m no possum expert, but I think this was a mutant possum.  Looking back I feel sure it must have weighed as much as I did.  This was no cute baby possum.  No.  This was one of those killer possums you hear about on the news.  It was a thing of nightmares, trust me…I still have them.

The possum lunged at us, reared up on its hind legs and proceed to spew forth what I can only imagine was a tirade of possum profanity.  In perfect possum dialect, it made threats against my family, insulted my momma, and made fun of my house.  We stood there in shock (fear).  With a final hiss, the possum ran underneath the couch and disappeared.

This is the part of the story where I would like to say that the hero dad rose up within me.

It did not.

Once the possum disappeared, I wanted to as well.  He certainly wasn’t happy, he probably had rabies, and I definitely didn’t want to mess with him.  I didn’t want to seek him out.  I didn’t want to remove him from our house.  I’d rather just leave him alone.  I didn’t know what to do, but whatever it was, I wasn’t crazy about doing it.

But here is the thing, I had my lovely wife and children in the house.  Left unchecked, that beast would tear up my home and quite possibly harm the ones I love the most.  I simply could not let that happen…even if I didn’t want to confront the possum.

We devised a plan.  Tonya held a giant yard stick like a samurai warrior. I opened the back door.  I slowly approached the couch and began turning over section by section.

Grabbed the first section and with shaking hands and buckling knees turned the section over…no possum.  Whew.

Next section…Tipped it over …no possum.  Whew.

Last section.  This isn’t so bad after all. Grabbed the couch section and flipped it…there it is.  Possum.  And it ain’t happy.  If looks could kill, I would have been dead immediately.  It was in no mood to play!  It lunged at me. I jumped higher than is humanly possible.  I can neither confirm or deny that I was screaming like a girl. It must have been quite the sight because it immediately became disoriented. Tonya was swinging the makeshift ninja sword at it.  I think it started laughing.  Or mocking.

Whatever it was doing, it was confused just long enough for me to make my move.  In one deft move, in a kick worthy of Hall of Fame consideration, the possum was booted out the house.  Door shut.  House safe.

In subsequent days we found two other possums in the house.  Trapped them and got them out as quickly as possible.  It seems that unbeknownst to us, there was a hole in the floor of our house.  The possums had eaten through the insulation under the house and were entering the hole…in my son’s closet. Ok, so there really were monsters in his closet.

As I think about it now, sin is a lot like those possums.  It creeps in subtly. We may not even realize it is there.  Others may see it, but we often try to explain it away as something else. When confronted with its reality, we may not want to deal with it, maybe even hope it goes away on its own.  But the reality is, left unchecked, sin is deadly.  It will tear up your homes and hurt your family.  You have to confront it.  It is messy, painful, and uncomfortable, but you have to remove that sin from your life.  As Paul says in Colossians 3:5-7, “ Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry.  Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived.”  Don’t let sin hide out in your home or life.  Look for it, and when you find it, get rid of it.  Your family will be glad you did.

I must confess.  I didn’t tell the kids at that time about the possums.  What they didn’t know would hurt them, right?  The fam and I stayed out of the house a few days while the hole in the closet was fixed and we were absolutely sure all possums were gone.  After the all clear, kids came home none the wiser as to what had transpired. Bedtime approached and as my son entered into his room he looked intently for a few moments at the closet, looked under the bed, climbed into his bed, and pulled up the covers.

“Huh, all the monsters are gone…”

#bestdadever