Cliff sat on the edge of the hospital bed, fiddling with the ties of one of those paper-thin gowns that never quite cover the, ahem, essentials. But today, he wasn’t sweating the wardrobe malfunction. Today was a fresh start—the day everything changed.
After months of chemo, scans, and nights spent staring at the ceiling, today was surgery day. The day the cancer would be history. The surgeon, Dr. Harlan, strolled in with the swagger of a man who’d just aced a golf swing. Clipboard in hand, he radiated good news.
“Cliff,” he said, flashing a grin, “the surgery went great!”
Cliff let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “So… the cancer’s all gone?”
“Well…” Dr. Harlan paused, scratching his chin. “We took out a good chunk. About half.”
Cliff blinked. “Half?”
“Yup,” Dr. Harlan said, nodding like he’d just announced a BOGO deal. “We figured that was enough to make a difference. The rest? Eh, it’s not that bad. You can live with it.”
Cliff’s jaw dropped. “But Doctor, the plan was to remove all of it. You said you’d go after every last cell!”
Dr. Harlan shrugged. “Yeah, but once we got in there, taking it all out seemed like… a lot of work.”
Cliff stared, dumbfounded. “So, you left the disease inside me… on purpose?”
“Pretty much,” the doctor said with a wink. “It’s just easier that way.” And with that, Dr. Harlan sauntered out, probably to grab a coffee.
Now, before you start Googling “worst doctors in history,” let’s be clear: thank God, that at least for now, this is a fictional tale. No sane surgeon would leave half a tumor behind and call it a day. But here’s the kicker—sometimes we do exactly that in our spiritual lives. We let things linger that hinder our commitment to Christ, like a bad habit we’re too cozy with or a distraction we’ve nicknamed “self-care.”
C.S. Lewis, once put it this way: “We are not merely imperfect creatures who must be improved: we are rebels who must lay down our arms.” (from Mere Christianity). Ouch, Clive, calling us out like that! But he’s right. Those “hidden sins” or modern-day idols? They’re not just quirks—they’re rebels staging a coup in our hearts.
So, what are these idols? They’re not golden calves or stone statues (unless you’ve got a weird backyard decor thing going on). They’re the distractions, habits, or priorities that sneakily take God’s rightful place. Maybe it’s a toxic relationship that drags you away from holiness. Maybe it’s an addiction to doom-scrolling political X posts, binge-watching shows, or chasing likes for that perfectly filtered selfie. Or perhaps it’s pride, bitterness, or fear you’ve been hauling around like an overstuffed suitcase.
The Bible’s pretty clear about this, as Col. Jessup from the movie “A Few Good Men” says to Tom Cruise’s character “is that Crystal Clear” and it is. In Matthew 5:29-30, Jesus gets downright dramatic: “If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away… If your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off.” Yikes, Jesus, no chill! He’s not saying to literally start chopping, but He is dead serious about removing anything that pulls us from God. Half-measures will not cut it—pun intended.
Augustine of Hippo, the theologian who went from a total party animal to saint, knew a thing or two about clinging to sin. He famously prayed, “Lord, make me chaste—but not yet!” (Confessions). Sound familiar? We say, “I’ll deal with this habit tomorrow,” or “I’ll forgive that person… eventually.” But God’s not asking us to manage our sin like it’s a quirky roommate. He wants it gone.
But there is good news: God’s not standing there with a clipboard, shaking His head like a disappointed coach. His grace is bigger than our mess. As 1 John 1:9 promises, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” That’s not just a pat on the back—that’s a full-on spiritual detox! When I fail, Jesus still says, “Cliff, I love you.”
So, what’s the game plan? Listen closely: What’s pulling you from wholehearted devotion to Christ? Is it a social media app that has gotten you in a chokehold? A grudge you are nursing like a pet cactus? A habit you have lived with a long time, and excused as “not that bad”? Whatever it is, do not negotiate with it. Delete the app. Block the number. Confess the sin. Grab a trusted friend and say, “Help me stay accountable, because I’m done playing spiritual Whac-A-Mole.”
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the theologian who stood firm against the evil of Nazi Germany, and paid with hi life said, “The call of Jesus Christ means either we take up our cross or we deny Him” (The Cost of Discipleship). That sounds intense, but it’s also freeing. Cutting out what holds us back is not a punishment—it’s a path to joy, to a life where Christ is the center, not competing with our baggage.
Don’t wait for a “better time” to act. As Psalm 32:5 says, “Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity… and you forgave the guilt of my sin.” God’s ready to forgive and restore—today. So, take the step. Make the call. Pray the prayer. And lean into the grace that’s bigger than any sin you’re carrying.
You’ve got this. And God’s got you.