Inventory…

We lived off the ranch for ten years.  My stepfather managed the S.H. Kress store in downtown St. Petersburg.  Every year, the store closed on New Year’s Day for inventory.  This was before computerized inventory.  Every item in the store had to be counted.  I’m not sure why.  Maybe it was for tax purposes.  Maybe it was for preparing the annual report.  It never made sense to me. 

I remember the old Jerry Clower story of the dad who ran a general store in a Mississippi town.  His son, a new graduate from Ole Miss, closed the store one day.  When his dad came in, he was surprised to see the door locked and a sign that said, “Closed for inventory.”  When he went in, he asked his son what was going on.  The son replied that they had to take inventory to see how the store was doing.  The Dad said, “Son, go to the back of the store and on the top shelf near the door is the first piece of inventory we ever bought: A bolt of purple cloth.  Everything else in this store is profit.  Now open those doors and let’s serve our customers.”

As children, we were not asked to help out during inventory; we were told to be up at 6 AM, and we would all go down to work alongside the regular store employees.  My sisters ran the office, tallying up the reports.  My brothers did the storerooms.  Various employees inventoried their departments.  As the youngest, I was assigned to count things that no one else wanted to count. 

My first year, I counted postcards.  Thank goodness I passed third-grade math.  I pulled one rack of cards and counted them; then the next.  It took me about twenty minutes to count each rack.  There were forty-eight racks.  I worked most of the day on the postcards, till my brothers told me to count the number of cards in an inch and then measure the stacks of cards.  In the process, God revealed to me that I was not cut out to be an accountant.

One year, I was assigned to count the toy department.  It took me longer than the postcards.  Not because there were that many toys, but I felt to be responsible, I needed to count and test each toy.  My stepfather surprised me in the middle of this joy, and I was reassigned to ladies’ underwear.  I was eleven, and lingerie was repulsive to me. I closed my eyes and counted as quickly as I could.

Have you ever done an inventory of your soul?  Most of us don’t.  To ponder our defects of character, to face the reality of our sins, to see clearly the damage we have done to others brings pain and shame.  Even Jesus followers want to throw paper over our character flaws.  That’s why we resort to blanket confessions: “Heavenly Father, forgive me of all my sins.”  John Ortberg aptly observed, “Bland confessions are like taking a shower with your clothes on.  You are spared the embarrassment of nakedness, but you really don’t get clean.”

We used to say, “Confession is good for the soul.”  Now we believe we shouldn’t dwell on the negative and only think positive, self-affirming thoughts.  The problem with this therapeutic way of thinking is reality.  Every person has flaws, makes mistakes, and does wrong when they know the right thing to do.  Only when we face the reality of our soul’s condition can we begin to receive forgiveness, release guilt and shame, and get healthy.

You need a daily time to be still and take inventory of the day.  You can use the Ten Commandments as a guide or the seven deadly sins.  For example, did I put God first today?  Did I attach God’s name to something he would not approve of (see social media)?  Did someone or something other than God guide my life?  Did I rest? Did I give God time when I focused on him?  Do I honor the good work my parents did in my life?  Do I forgive them for their imperfections?  Do I harbor hate in my heart for anyone? When did I lie today? Have I taken anything that did not belong to me?  Do I treat people as sexual objects? Am I faithful in relationships? When have I been greedy? Do I value money or possessions more than God?

You can also use the fruit of the Spirit to take inventory of the positive things in your life.  Do I love like Jesus? Am I living a life of joy? Do I have peace that is greater than my anxiety? Am I patient? Am I kind? Am I gentle in difficult situations? Am I generous? Am I faithful to my commitments? Do I have self-control?

What does your soul inventory reveal? Could it be that God is pleased with the positive and wants to clean up the negative?

Taking inventory is hard.  It is humbling.  It is essential. When you take inventory, you can finally face the reality of who you are.  Taking inventory will show you how much you need God.