It's amazing how little things can happen sometimes that feel absolutely detrimental. These things, while characterized as little, can still manage to leave emotional contusions and lacerations that feel as if they will never be the same.
This is how my journey into the holidays began. With one sharp cut on my heart and a quick blow to my gut, I found myself once again remembering that ministry can be a battlefield. Why is it that this fact manages to sip through the cracks in my memory? After all, this is not my first rodeo. Secondly, the Christian life itself is a battlefield of spiritual warfare. Yet I am prone to forget that our battle is not with flesh and blood.
I fell to remember one important word: grace. Grace is a hard thing to demonstrate when we are raw with emotion, but our enemy knows this.
As previously mentioned, this is how my holiday experience started. I had to practice something I ashamedly admit that I am not good at doing, and that is leaving things in God's hands. There was nothing I could do but get on a plane to PA with my husband and leave the things that threatened (pause for dramatic music) "life as we know it" in more capable hands.
The short conclusion-- for the time being-- is that the battle has at least reached a truce stage, and I'm seeing that this particular situation is not going to be so detrimental after all. Isn't it funny how it can seem that way at times, though?
My contusion and puncture wound is still mending, but it does help to have Spiritual neosporin.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
White Lies and Morning Whispers
"He was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies" John 8:44
Late for work, I hurried down the steps this morning thinking about how my heart was bruised from learning that a friend had told me a "little white lie." I'm not sure if my feelings of sorrow were more over the lie itself or the fact that this friend felt they needed to conceal such a ridiculous detail from me. I honestly could care less about what it was they lied about, but the fact that they felt a need to lie about this causes me to question not only the character of this person but the foundation and stability of our friendship. So this was all going through my mind when I heard His gently whisper. "She's human. Forgive her."
Wow, what a simple yet dynamic thought. Why is it that we who bear the name Christ often still struggle with letting our "yes" be "yes" and our "no" be "no"? Why is it that, just like Moses did when he lied about Sara being his sister, do we often think that our little white lie is justifiable? Yet we know from the teachings of Christ that there is no small sin in God's eyes.
We have an enemy who is by nature a liar. In fact, Christ called him the "Father of Lies" and this loser has been teaching the world to lie since he stepped foot on it. So as I contemplated all of this, my sorrow over the incident shifted more to the misleading my friend had experienced. She had been tempted to speak a language contrary to the Spirit but natural to the flesh. Just as she had made a mistake, I too had been guilty of an equally harmful flaw. I had forgotten that this sister in Christ was made of flesh of blood, and my perception of her sainthood did not allow for mistakes. "She's human. Forgive her."
I'm so glad that my Heavenly Father does not lose sight of the fact that I am merely His creation and constantly in need of His forgiveness. I'm glad that His well of mercy never runs dry and that in showing me this wonderful gift of forgiveness, He calls me to follow obediently to give the same to others.
Late for work, I hurried down the steps this morning thinking about how my heart was bruised from learning that a friend had told me a "little white lie." I'm not sure if my feelings of sorrow were more over the lie itself or the fact that this friend felt they needed to conceal such a ridiculous detail from me. I honestly could care less about what it was they lied about, but the fact that they felt a need to lie about this causes me to question not only the character of this person but the foundation and stability of our friendship. So this was all going through my mind when I heard His gently whisper. "She's human. Forgive her."
Wow, what a simple yet dynamic thought. Why is it that we who bear the name Christ often still struggle with letting our "yes" be "yes" and our "no" be "no"? Why is it that, just like Moses did when he lied about Sara being his sister, do we often think that our little white lie is justifiable? Yet we know from the teachings of Christ that there is no small sin in God's eyes.
We have an enemy who is by nature a liar. In fact, Christ called him the "Father of Lies" and this loser has been teaching the world to lie since he stepped foot on it. So as I contemplated all of this, my sorrow over the incident shifted more to the misleading my friend had experienced. She had been tempted to speak a language contrary to the Spirit but natural to the flesh. Just as she had made a mistake, I too had been guilty of an equally harmful flaw. I had forgotten that this sister in Christ was made of flesh of blood, and my perception of her sainthood did not allow for mistakes. "She's human. Forgive her."
I'm so glad that my Heavenly Father does not lose sight of the fact that I am merely His creation and constantly in need of His forgiveness. I'm glad that His well of mercy never runs dry and that in showing me this wonderful gift of forgiveness, He calls me to follow obediently to give the same to others.
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