I acted the fool out in traffic this morning and now lecture myself over my lack of self-control.
Yesterday the mower wouldn’t start which meant my 1-hour project became half a day. My wife got to hear my colorful language. Last week I was at the grocery and grumbled my way through the slow aisle at the checkout. I’m still ashamed. I could go on.
As far back as I choose to remember I have put my agenda ahead of God’s. I have urgent business to attend, don’t you see? And all my wants hang in the balance, so I blame everyone in sight and things like ill-timed streetlights. I’ll even pretend it’s God’s fault. Inner dialogue: “But doesn’t Satan, not God, likely cause these delays? Right-o. And God allows them, knowing full well I’ll have to suffer for it; or rather, my flesh will.”
I admit my problem is born of weakness—an ongoing reluctance to emulate a spiritually mature person and thereby endure life’s measured paces with dignity, with gratitude even. Good grief! Are you kidding? I’m not even close.
Then again I am.
I have the mind of Christ (1Cor 2:16). I have to keep reminding myself of this. I also have my good days when I accept that a life of constant convenience doesn’t exist in the here and now. It’s high time to get over myself. For I know the truth: God has the superior agenda, and it happens to be love-infused. It includes ridding me of my ugly parts till I seize my chances during delays and learn things like, oh, patience comes to mind, once and for all. That will be a welcomed, whittled down me.
For now, I’m still the work-in-progress version, who at least knows enough to put hope eternal in my great Savior’s exhortation, “Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven” (Mt 5:16).
Next time, I shall. Good riddance flesh! You won’t be missed.
I hope this encourages you today.
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