A monster lives in my closet; that one over there, behind the drape. I’d like to get rid of him, but he breathes fire, and his claws would rip me to shreds.

A monster lives in my closet. He roars, curses, and his smoke stinks. I’d like to get rid of him, but he’s kind of big, and he might bite me.

A monster lives in my closet. He bangs on the door, scratches the paint, and, yesterday, dented the wall. I’d like to get rid of him, but I can’t find the exterminator’s number.

A monster lives in my closet. He makes rude noises, interrupts, and has lousy table manners. I’d like to get rid of him, but I don’t know where to send him.

A monster lives in my closet. He whines in the most pitiful way. I’d like to get rid of him, but he’ll track mud all over the carpet.

A monster lives in my closet. He’s annoying and embarrassing. I’d like to get rid of him, but I’m busy today.

A monster lives in my closet, and if I don’t feed him now, he’ll pop out while company’s here.

Monsters beat us when constrained. But eliminate closets and they fall, easy prey for God’s grace.

So, what happened the last time you refused condemnation and ran, instead, to the cross that frees you from sin and death?

Proverbs 28:13; Romans 8:1-4; Jeremiah 16:17; Colossians 1:15-20; Acts 19:17-20; I John 1:8-10