pass the spiritual neosporin, please

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.