The morning began in utter silence. No wind, no sound, no sun. Just me, my porridge and my Bible. As my soul drank in the pause, I heard Him speak truth, “Why are you up in arms already today?”
I had just been reading a devotional about walking in the Spirit, that produces all these fruits including, gentleness and self-control, wholeheartedly in agreement with the message, but was convicted that I fail here more often than I like to admit.
I try so hard to make life fun, to keep parenting chaos at bay, to hold it all together.
More often than not, a boulder comes shattering that glass house, devastating my efforts and I tumble right down with it. “Ok then, today is going to be different,” I whisper as the sun begins to break over the trees.
Now I should have known, should have been prepared. I’ve been at this parenting and Jesus gig long enough now to know that self-will rarely gets me further than my big toe but I step right into the demands of the day before praying anyway.
A whole lot of fluids and a little bit of Jesus: isn’t that how it goes?
This morning the family machine begins to run smooth and fast. All gears working and most without squeaks. I’m engaged and attentive: serving, helping, guiding, reminding. I can do this. Then comes the rub. We all have it, the one (or many) things that get right under our skin, bringing our internal temperature from cool to blistering in two seconds flat.
I’ve learned it most likely lies right between our conviction and our personal sin, stepping on toes that are acutely aware of the blisters.
My rub is blame and having it all in control: the enemy of intimacy, the opposer of ownership.
Lucky day for me: I have a tiny master blamer on the loose. The nature of the infraction is small but bolstered by her pride, blame comes, cracks the door, and invades my heart and home. I catch myself recalling my devotional, a jumble of something about gentleness and self-control, yet I’m swallowed up whole as my blisters pop. Fully engaged in the war, our friendly fire wounds deep. When the smoke clears, I’m a wreck.
I had heard the truth but didn’t apply it. I hadn’t made a battle plan for the war that would arise. I had been warned in advance, yet I self-controlled instead of surrendering to Jesus control…and then I blamed my daughter for it all.
Acutely aware of my part, I apologize both to her and to Christ. Sin was at the door and I had let it right in.
If we say that we have no sin, the truth is not in us. I too wrestle with the flesh everyday. It’s an ongoing engagement, a battle between my innate and the divine. It’s not easy simply accepting that He did it all for me.
I find myself folding my sleeves, helping Jesus rev up my day’s engine – as if He would need my help.
Walking IN the Spirit of the Lord… It’s a war on our human will.Are you still fighting it on your own, especially when parenting OR in your marriage…?