It was a late July afternoon in 1975. My cousin from Indiana and I had been playing for hours in the sweltering Tennessee heat. Bored, tired, and sporting sweat beads in the creases of our necks, we had come inside the house in search of a cold drink and a source of air-conditioned entertainment.
Sharing a bottle of Coke in the kitchen, we considered our options. My cousin, ever imaginative in mischief, spotted the old washing machine chugging away on the utility porch adjacent to the kitchen, its monotonous, swishing rhythm accentuating our boredom. His gaze settled on the wringer, a mechanism on top of the machine with two horizontal rollers through which wet clothes were fed to squeeze out excess water.
“I’ve never seen one of those,” he said, pointing to it. “How does it work?”
I walked over to the machine and flipped the switch. The rollers cranked into action, whirring noisily. I explained the process, demonstrating how my mother would feed the clothes between them then deposit them in the red plastic clothes basket beside the machine, hanging them on the clothesline later to dry.
Intrigued, my cousin moved in close and watched as the rollers spun in toward one another. We continued to watch them for several seconds, hypnotized by the motion. Suddenly, realizing my mother could come in any minute to check on the wash, I broke out of my reverie. I started back into the kitchen, wanting to avoid the hot chore of hanging the heavy clothes on the line.
“Hold on,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me back toward the machine. “Watch this.”
Slowly and steadily, he began to direct his index finger toward the spinning, whirring rollers. I watched, horrified, as he lightly touched the bottom roller quickly three times with his index finger, each time jerking it away a split second before the rollers could ingest it. He turned and grinned triumphantly. “I dare you to do it.”
There it was — the challenge. As much as I wanted to turn and run, I was rooted to the spot. Torn between being branded a coward and knowing the trouble I would be in if discovered doing something so foolish, I wavered a full minute before taking the bait. Resignedly, I pushed my cousin aside and stepped up to the machine. Inhaling deeply, I began inching my own grubby finger forward, trying to keep my shaking hand steady as it approached the rollers.
As soon as I touched the bottom one, I knew it was no good. Apparently, my cousin had better reflexes than I did, because before I could withdraw it, the rollers had swallowed my finger into their grip. With my other hand I tried in vain to hit the safety button to stop the machine but lacked the strength to activate it. I looked frantically around for my cousin who, frightened by my screams and my father’s belt, had deserted me to be eaten by the washing machine.
Thankfully, my sister, hearing my cries from her upstairs bedroom, came rushing downstairs to find me helplessly attached to the machine. Quickly assessing the situation, she pounded the safety release button. Mercifully, the rollers stopped, reversed, and released me from their crushing grip. Out came my finger, slightly flattened and with far less skin than when it entered, but thankfully unbroken.
Temptation presents itself to us in many ways, and we must be fully aware of the possible consequences of how we respond. Yielding to it may cause immediate or prolonged pain, or both. Satan knows each of our weaknesses intimately and, when he tempts us in a vulnerable moment, we may offer little resistance and surrender quickly. At other times, like my approach to the wringer, we proceed slowly, methodically inching our way toward temptation, playing dangerous games with it. Regardless of the circumstances, the Bible is clear in what we are to do to avoid temptation: we must steer clear of any path that leads us toward it. It instructs us to avoid the path of the wicked and to turn away from evil men (Proverbs 4:14-15).
We all face varying degrees of temptation throughout our lives, some small, others potentially life-scarring. First Corinthians 10:13 tells us the temptations we face are common to all humanity. However, the verse also goes on to assure us God will sustain us, providing whatever we need in moments of temptation to endure and do what is right. Jesus lived on earth 33 years in the flesh and, no doubt, experienced temptation in each stage of life: childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. He understands the feelings associated with the seductions the world presents. In Matthew 4, He showed us exactly what to do when Satan tempts us — arming Himself against the devil with the sword of Scripture.
When we wander down a wicked path in our lives, our decisions may leave us with scars to remind us of our transgressions. I am fortunate I have only slight scars remaining from my bout with the wringer. Although they restrict the flexibility in my right index finger, they are otherwise relatively painless souvenirs of a poor decision. Others bear much deeper scars, struggling daily with the long-term consequences of poor choices.
As Christians, we serve a risen Savior who bears deep, incomparable scars. Unlike mine, His did not result from weakness but from His selfless, sacrificial act of love. Knowing He faced, endured, and overcame temptation fortifies and sustains us in the face of our own temptation. Knowing He forgives us and still loves us when we stray can helps us heal as we deal with the consequences of our actions. Clinging to His nail-scarred hand enables us to keep in step with Him as we navigate the paths of our lives. With His help, we can triumph over temptation and be obedient and faithful to the counsel of Proverbs 4:14-15.
About the Writer: Cindy Ellis was born in rural Tennessee with a passion to travel the world. She has a bachelor’s degree in foreign languages and a M.A.Ed in administration and supervision. She taught high school Spanish for twenty years and was awarded the Distinguished Classroom Teacher Award three times. She has served on various mission trips and loves to read, cook, and see new places as often as she can.
