THE PRESSURE WASH
What you ignore will eventually grow.
This one was born in a storm.
And in a conversation.
A week before the washing, I stepped outside and looked up while playing ball with the dogs and Marti.
For the first time in twenty-three years,
I saw black and green spreading across my roof.
DEDICATION
To Marti — for the conversations that continue to wash and strengthen our marriage.
There is no sweeter place than growing with you.
To my sister — who feels fresh and new, courageously confronting what once lingered in shadow.
To my friends — for steady encouragement and honest reflection.
To my readers — who continue walking this road with me.
And most of all, to Jesus and the Holy Spirit — who cleanse, seal, and preserve what I surrender.
“Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.” — Psalm 139:23–24 (NKJV)
THE HOOK
Dust storms had rolled through that year.
Fine particles settled.
Then the tule fog arrived.
Moisture rested quietly on the dirt.
And without much fanfare,
algae and fungus began to grow.
I hadn’t noticed it.
Until I finally looked up.
THE STORY
Our house faces east and west.
That exposure invites moisture.
Every neighbor on our street facing the same direction
has the same issue.
Some exposure patterns are shared.
And sometimes what grows on a roof
is not unlike what grows in a soul.
The day the pressure wash crew showed up,
a major rainstorm moved in.
They didn’t cancel.
He climbed onto the roof anyway.
Water from the sky.
Water from the hose.
At the same time, Marti was at my sister’s house,
experiencing that same storm — only snow.
Twenty-five inches in a day.
Two storms.
Two houses.
One season.
THE MOMENT (BAM)
That morning my sister and I talked about fear.
She realized she had been afraid most of her life.
Not loud fear.
Not panic.
Just a quiet undercurrent.
The surprising part?
In my eyes she has always been one of the strongest people I know.
As we talked, we recognized something together.
What looked like strength
had often been overcompensation.
Not weakness.
Survival.
And in this season, she isn’t carrying it anymore.
She attributes it to God.
To Jesus.
To having space to speak honestly.
To cleaning house — in her home
and in her soul.
THE TURN
Later, as the rain hit the roof,
I watched the worker standing in it, pressure washing.
Water from above.
Water from below.
I watched the buildup release.
It came off in sheets.
And I couldn’t miss the timing.
That morning my sister had spoken about fear being lifted from her life.
Now I was watching buildup disappear in the middle of a storm.
Nobody invites fungus.
It grows when conditions are right.
Dust.
Moisture.
Stillness.
Time.
That’s how it happens on a roof.
And sometimes that’s how it happens inside a soul.
Dust.
Moisture.
Stillness.
Time.
That’s how it happens on a roof.
And sometimes that’s how it happens inside a soul.
Dust.
Moisture.
Stillness.
Time.
That’s how it happens on a roof.
And sometimes that’s how it happens in us.
THE REFLECTION
Unresolved fear.
Miscommunication.
Assumed motives.
Quiet resentment.
Hidden insecurity.
Give those things the right environment
and they multiply.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Subtly.
I realized I hadn’t noticed what had been accumulating
until something made me look up again.
The pressure washer cut clean lines through the buildup.
It was loud.
Forceful.
Uncomfortable.
But necessary.
The water hit hard.
And what didn’t belong
began to run off.
“As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.” — Psalm 103:12 (NKJV)
Storms will return.
Dust will settle.
Moisture will come again.
But when something has been washed
and sealed by surrender,
it no longer grows the same way.
WALKAWAY LINE
What you ignore will eventually grow.
But what you surrender
can finally be washed away.
SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
What has been quietly growing in your life
that you haven’t looked up to see yet?
And who in your life is safe enough
to help you see it?
MY PRAYER
My Heavenly Father,
Search the hidden corners of our hearts.
Wash away what does not belong.
Reveal the conditions that allowed it to grow.
Remove what we have carried as strength
but was only survival.
Separate fear from our identity
as far as the east is from the west.
Seal what You cleanse.
Make us resilient in communication.
Strong in surrender.
Steady in love.
Preserve what You have restored.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
ABOUT G~
G~ writes from lived experience — exploring identity, authority, and time through the lens of faith, trial, leadership, and surrender.
His reflections are not meant to condemn or hype, but to steady.
Rooted in covenant, forged through adversity, and anchored under the authority of Jesus Christ, his work invites readers to examine who governs their lives — and to live intentionally under truth.
If what you’ve read resonates with your journey, feel free to reach out.
G~
Amen, and as men following Jesus, may we continue to be sharpened by one another that our view becomes wide and revealing. G ~
What you ignore will eventually grow.
But what you surrender
can finally be washed away.
This format lands well, keep Godly wisdom and your loving tone.
Keep Going!