What Mold Taught Me About My Heart

I woke up this morning thinking about mold. Such a silly thing to wake up thinking about, right?

The last time we had flooding, the downstairs of my home flooded. I live in a split-level home, so the bottom level is actually a finished basement—and that's where my bedroom is. It has carpet.

Since then, I have occasionally wondered about mold. On the surface, everything looks fine. The carpet is dry. The room looks normal. But the truth is, I have no idea what might be growing underneath what was once soaking wet.

As I was thinking about that this morning, I realized that sometimes our hearts can be a lot like that carpet. Mold doesn't usually announce itself. It grows in dark places. It grows where moisture has been left unattended. And by the time we notice it, it has often been there much longer than we realize.

The same can be true in our hearts.

Sometimes bitterness, resentment, pride, unforgiveness, jealousy, or self-protection begin growing beneath the surface, and we don't even realize it. Everything may look fine on the outside, but something unhealthy is quietly taking root within us.

So how do we recognize it? I believe one of the clearest indicators is the way we speak. Jesus said, "For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of." Our words often reveal what is growing beneath the surface.

I've started asking myself a simple question before I respond to people: "What is the motive behind my response?"

That question can be incredibly revealing.

Before speaking, pause for a moment and consider the heart behind the words that are about to come out of your mouth.

 Are they motivated by love? Hurt? Pride? Self-defense? The need to be right? The desire to be understood?

Something so simple can reveal so much.

As followers of Christ, we are called to make love our primary motive. Yet if we're honest, our flesh often wants something different. Jesus tells us to do to others as we would have them do to us. But our natural response is often to do to others as they have done to us.

When we're hurt, we want to hurt back.

When we're rejected, we want to withdraw.

When we're wounded, we want to protect ourselves.

When we're offended, we want to defend ourselves.

I call this survival mode.

But God calls us to something higher.

Scripture tells us not to repay evil for evil or insult with insult, but to repay evil with blessing. We are often quick to defend our reputation, yet God's Word reminds us that it is by doing good that we silence the ignorant talk of foolish people.

A while back, I asked God a question.

"Why is it so easy for me to forgive someone I've only known for a short time who betrayed me deeply, yet so much harder to forgive someone I've known for years whose offense may actually be much smaller?"

As I prayed about it, I realized something. The deepest wounds often come from the people whose approval we still seek. The people whose opinions still carry weight in our hearts. The people we have unknowingly allowed to influence our identity.

That's why their words cut differently.

But our identity was never meant to be built on the approval of people. It was meant to be built on Christ alone. And when you truly grasp that, there is such freedom in it.

One voice instead of ten.

One opinion that ultimately matters.

One identity that cannot be shaken by someone's criticism, rejection, or misunderstanding.

The truth is, keeping our hearts free from "mold" has far more to do with us than it does with other people.

People will hurt us.

People will disappoint us.

People will say things that wound us, and many times they won't even realize the impact their words had.

But it is still our responsibility to guard our hearts.

The Bible teaches that obedience to God's truth purifies us and produces a sincere love for one another. And love covers a multitude of sins.

So today, I want to challenge you to try something. For the next few days, before you speak, respond, text, or react, pause and ask yourself:

"What is the motive behind my response?"

Ask God to reveal what may be growing beneath the surface. Because I can tell you from experience, it can be quite an eye-opener. I discovered some mold growing in places I didn't even realize I had been cultivating.

And here's the beautiful thing about mold—it cannot survive in the light. Neither can the things we surrender to Christ.

So before you worry about what someone else is saying or doing, ask God to reveal what is growing in your own heart.

Then bring it into the light.

Because what God exposes, He can heal.

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