By touch, the soda can felt a bit warm for her liking. So she did what any normal person would do, she placed it in the staff refrigerator.

About an hour later my boss asked me for a few rags and cleaner. A strange request, because I'm the one who does the cleaning at work.

"What happened? I mean, do you need me to clean something for you? Whatever it is, I'll do it." I felt strongly about doing it. How could I allow my boss to get her hands dirty?

"No, I'll do it," she responded. She also explained how her Coke Zero had mysteriously exploded in the staff refrigerator, making a great big mess. And since it was in the staff "area" it was best if I stayed away.

Agreed.

So I gave her the rags and the cleaner and wished her luck. About an hour later-well, it felt like an hour-she returned with cola-soaked rags and a trash can full of liquid. As she handed me the mess she expressed how big of a mess that one Coke Zero had caused. Not only exploding on itself, but on everything else around it.

At first, in that moment, I did not see a lesson in the Coke Zero explosion situation. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw me, and maybe you, in it.

I can't speak for the can (well, because cans can't speak and it would be just plain silly to try to question a Coke can), but I can imagine the journey the Coke can took before reaching its theatrical explosion.

Most likely my boss packed her lunch in a bit of a hurry. With a family to care for in the early hours of the morning, packing a gentle lunch is out of the question. So the Coke most likely rested at the bottom of the bag tossed back and forth with every movement she made as she walked and drove.

Once at work, due to all the initial business that needed to be taken care of, the can sat in the bag, on the floor, with the rest of the food on top of it, waiting to be rescued. But no attention was given to it, so it sat there, warming up by the minute.

With a morning filled with pressure, shaking, and lack of chill, the can reached the point of no return. The can no longer felt it could do the job it was born to do: to give a tasty refreshment (in a low calorie way) to its Master.

So when it was placed inside the cold, dark refrigerator, something inside the can decided enough was enough. The massive explosion happened out of sight, but the result affected all of its immediate surroundings.

A big, sticky wet mess was left to be cleaned by someone else-in this case, its Master. A Master, that in the end even took the blame.

How many times have I awoken in a bit of a rush? Today was one of those days. For some strange reason I overslept by 30 minutes, causing a well-managed morning ritual dance with my cell mate go all wrong.

Hurry, hurry, hurry was now the name of the morning dance. The balance was off. The morning zen was gone. Peace was not found as the sun rose.

Friction and short fuses filled the morning air. Not so nice thoughts flooded our brains. Tolerance was more than gone. And to top it all off, the sink ran out of hot water, so we were forced to drink just barely warm coffee. The coffee was bitter, just like our now morning attitude.

Just as we thought we were going to be ready before the call for morning chow, the cell doors opened-15 minutes early!

Arg!

Already frustrated, my head was filled with all sorts of not so godly thoughts. But I could not just sulk in my negativity because the doors would close back up any second now.

I grabbed my cup and spoon and jumped out of my concrete cage just before the doors shut.

More not so nice thoughts filled my brain. The pressure was building up slowly.

After breakfast, as I walked to work, I was called over by an officer. He questioned me about things I have no clue about, gangs, drugs, crooked stuff.

His mere suggestion that I would know such things built up the pressure within me even more. My inner patience was almost gone and the pressure was very high.

I finally made it to work. A place of respect. A place that is staffed with nice people. Smiles are abundant and plenty for all. Work. A place I could finally let the ugly morning go and start anew.

Well, the morning was not done with me yet. Morning had a bit more ugly to share with me.

Upon arriving at work I was informed by the officer in charge that a merit-less complaint was filed about me. I'll spare the details, but the sum of the complaint was although "nothing has never been found to be wrong with inmate Torres, he seems too good to be true."

Because of this confusing complaint, my duties would be cut back and I would be used only when called. And only under more supervision.

Pressure higher. Peace and patience were only holding on by a thin string.

I needed to cool off. I needed to hit reboot. I needed time alone before I hit more pressure.

As I walked to the chapel I was rudely called an ugly racist name. I looked back to see who had flung such filth. I made eye contact and yelled back the meanest thing I could honestly think of, "You are going straight to hell because God doesn't love you. You are unsaveable!"

The guy I was yelling at had been struggling with his walk for some time now. For a few weeks he would be faithful to church services and studies. Then he would disappear for three months, then return again.

My words to him would have been hurtful, and I clearly knew it.

The moment those words came out I knew I had just caused a big, sticky, wet mess. My Master-my God, Lord, and Savior-would not be proud.

The mess not only got on him, but on a handful of others close by. The looks on their faces said it all.

A mess only the Master could clean now. A mess that needed His cleansing blood and gentle touch to restore the damage my explosion had caused.

He, God, quickly convicted my spirit, I immediately felt ashamed and just plain stupid. I knew I had to go to said brother and those around him, and apologize.

It felt like an hour, but God gave me the words and humility to apologize to all. And better yet, God filled all their hearts with forgiveness and love to be shared with me.

I'm not sure if you've had a Coke Zero exploding moment, but they are not pretty. They are not easy to admit, either. But for me they are growing moments.

When I stop depending and leaning on Jesus, in every single area of my life, I find nothing but outside pressure. Pressure that causes my inner peace to be thrown out, and nothing but horrible thoughts come in.

In the end I find myself no longer resting on Jesus, but working hard to stay in control. Control that in no way can stay stable for long.

So when I find myself facing unwelcome pressures, I take a moment to breathe-breathe in God's word and Spirit. I remind myself that He is my peace. He is my life. He is the air I breathe. He is my daily bread. He is my rest.

When I stop and remind myself of these things, I return control back to Him who knows me better than I know myself. And in His mysterious and loving way He removes all negative thoughts and fills me with tender peace allowing me to see Him in each situation that I can-and will-face.

So when you find yourself facing explosion, stop and breathe Him in, it will avoid a big, sticky, wet mess.

...learning to lean on Him more and more...