I sucked it up this morning.

My pride, that is.

Last night I was hanging out in the church office as our leadership team arrived for a meeting at 7pm. The first two to arrive, a pair of wonderful ladies a older than my mother who dote on me with motherly care anyway, asked me how my day had gone. I threw a casual glance at the clock and said, “I’ve been here since like 8:30 in the morning.”

“Mmmm, no. I was here at 8:30 and left at ten to nine,” says one.

Awkward. I’d tossed out the comment carelessly—without thinking through its accuracy—then stated it as fact. I felt the blood rush to my ears.

“Oh, right.” At which point I recalled seeing my son off to school at 8:30ish. Harold, my associate pastor, arrived. “Harold, when did I get here? Nine-thirty?”

“Yeah. Probably 9:30.”

“Oh. 9:30.” So I’d cleared it up.

But still felt convicted. All the way through the meeting. And afterward. And then this morning, there it was… this little knot of angst looped around my comment. And I know that knotty feeling. It’s there because God is dialing in on something, something he wants me to do.

I called up each woman individually and confessed my careless comment, which was actually a mild form of dishonesty. (No fanfare, just a simple call). And then left it up to God. My knot let go of itself, and the peace came sweetly.

Such a little thing, right?

There are no little things. Not when it comes to compromise, not when it’s about our integrity. A few weeks ago, I preached that I can understand (though not agree with) folks who feel tempted to sell their souls for a million dollars. But what does it say about us when we’re willing to sell our souls for five cent issues, one at a time? In some ways, that’s worse. Right?

Where has God been knotting you up lately… because he wants you to come clean?