31 Days: #28 An ugly-green color

Sometimes I covet my neighbor. All kinds of things I'm jealous of ... cute purses, big homes, amazing vocal talent, skinny bodies, cute clothes on skinny bodies, neat homes, homes that look neat even when they're messy, literally all kinds of things. I can't give too many more personal examples of my jealousy because it's too embarrassing. 

But I will admit that right now I'm having a fit because I can't go to the  Relevant Conference. I keep following the tweets and instagrams of all the ones who are there, and I want to be there, too. It's even in Harrisburg, PA, where I think you get to eat a lot of chocolate. I wrote a post a while back showcasing One Verse (a wonderful cause to end Bible poverty which I support myself), but in writing that post I was competing for a highly sought-after ticket to Relevant.

I didn't win. But out of curiosity, I subscribed to the ticket-winner's blog, and it turns out she is a hilarious writer. I was just catching up on some blogpost reading today and I stumbled across a post she wrote about her preparation for the conference. Of course my ears {eyes} perked right up.

As my kelly-green self read her words, I was astounded by how the Lord made a way for her to go. I mean, literally blown away. So much so that I'm not even jealous anymore because there's no doubt this girl is supposed to be at Relevant. And for whatever reason it just wasn't the year for me to be there, perhaps because I wasn't even a blogger until after the tickets already sold out. Anyway.

So as I kept reading this girl's blog for a bit, a more recent post amazed me in an even bigger way. You would not believe the stuff that's happened to keep her home from Relevant, all just confirmation that she's on the right path. I'm excited to see what happens with The Poorganic Life (what a clever title). I predict that big things are ahead for her! Anyway, I'm not jealous anymore and I'm sorry I ever was. 

I'm still sad not to be there, too, but it's not like He doesn't bless me beyond measure every single day without taking me from my kids and my job right in the middle of the fall semester. Or that's how I'm trying to feel, anyway. Okay, so maybe I'm still a tad bit envious of all those lucky bloggers at Relevant right now, but I'm trying. It ain't easy being green. :)

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

31 Days: #26 The allure of gossip

A gathering of women usually means good conversation, and it can get so lively at times we end up competing to be heard. Isn't it fun, then, when we have something so good to say that it silences all mouths in the room and draws attention immediately?

You see their eyes grow big. They sit forward in their chair a little. And if it's something really good, you might even get a little gasp.

It's the reaction of others that compels us to reveal our juicy tidbits to each other, and this kind of gossip makes me sick. It's childish and indulgent and sinful, and I usually have no trouble staying away.

But what I do struggle with is letting gossip enter my one-on-one conversations. And that's because telling secrets is fun. In fact, the only thing more fun than telling them is hearing them. At least I take comfort in the fact that I'm not purposefully malicious when I'm talking to a friend.

But then again, what gossip isn't malicious? I like to tell myself it's innocent, especially if I'm talking to someone I know I can trust. Or someone who would never repeat what I'm telling them. Or maybe I'm simply sharing the information with this particular person for their own good. Or maybe for my own good. Or better yet, for the good of the person I'm talking about. 

This kind of gossip is also childish and indulgent and sinful. And it ought to make me just as sick.

The thing is, we can be taught our entire lives that gossip is wrong, but we don't understand just how hurtful it can be until we become the one they're talking about. 

So may the Lord God Almighty protect me from the allure of gossip. May He convict me like crazy when I'm tempted to engage in idle conversation, and may He grace me with enough self-control to keep my tongue on a leash when I'm all but bursting with juicy stories to tell.

Besides, they get into the habit of being idle and going about from house to house. And not only do they become idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying things they ought not to. 1 Timothy 5:13 NIV

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

31 Days: #21 Trash-talk

We were in a really bad car accident a few years ago. A drunk driver broadsided us and flipped us on our side and totaled my Tahoe. Eight of us were in the vehicle, but only one of the kids was taken by ambulance then released the same night.

So we all walked away with a few bruises, a couple of seatbelt burns, a little glass in one arm, two non-concussion head bumps, and lots of soreness. But no one died, and it was a miracle.

I was recounting the events to a friend a few days later and I said, "I saw that truck coming toward us and there was nothing we could do so I just said 'Lord, please protect us.'"

But my son heard me telling the story and goes, "No you didn't, Mama. You said 'Crap!'"

Oops.

I guess it could've been worse, but still. It's interesting what I actually said vs. what I thought I said. Or what I wish I'd said. I want to be known for calling upon God in those kinds of moments. Not uttering crude, pointless words.

Taming my tongue is an old battle of mine, not only in the context of speaking hurtful words, but also in uttering profanities that happen to slip out before something more constructive has a chance to. I have a feeling there's more trash-talk coming out of my mouth than I realize, especially in times of extreme emotion. Just the thought of that bothers me because I know it only takes mere seconds of a poor witness to ruin our testimony.

The only way I know to control this tongue of mine is to let Him control it. So I invite Him to do just that as I determine to forsake idle talk and seek to please Him in every word I utter.

But now you yourselves are to put off all these: anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, filthy language out of your mouth. Do not lie to one another, since you have put off the old man with his deeds, and have put on the new man who is renewed in knowledge according to the image of Him who created him. Colossians 3:8-10

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

31 Days: #20 Morning grouchiness

It's not that I'm not a morning person. I like to get up early and have some time to myself while it's still quiet, and I'm usually relaxed and in an okay mood at first. But once the house wakes up and the rush is on, all my peace flies out the window.

This morning I actually got irritated at the twins for growing. I was unprepared for this Texas cold snap since I never watch the news, so we're just now realizing that none of their jacket sleeves are long enough. And when they showed me, I rolled my eyes and clenched my teeth a little.

So a few minutes later we all scrambled to the car in hopes that we had everything we needed, but I was still in a tizzy because we were late. As I drove through a school zone, a crossing guard waved at me (as she does every single day) and it irritated me that anyone would be so happy that early in the morning.

Then we got out of the car and Twin B realized he'd forgotten his P.E. clothes for the third day in a row. He's already lost so many points for not dressing out that his coach says he's in danger of failing (yes, P.E.), so I told him I guessed he'd just have to repeat sixth grade since he can't remember to bring his clothes. He got a little frantic until Twin A offered him her clothes since she had health instead of P.E. today and didn't need to wear them. He gladly agreed to borrow her feminine athletic apparel, dried up girl sweat and all.

I was impressed at how sweet she was being to her brother, and it tugged at my heartstrings a little (since after all, I'm the mom who's too scattered to make sure her ADD child remembers to bring everything he needs for school). And suddenly I felt really bad about my terrible mood.

I guess I'm not a morning person after all. How is it that I can step right out of the presence of the Lord and into a bad attitude with the closing of my Bible? So many daily struggles go right back to that old battle of flesh vs. Spirit. As I spend time in the Word each morning, I think I'll make my prayer to soak up more Jesus so I'll spread less morning ick.

Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

31 Days: #15 A hot temper

I threw horrible fits when I was little, and I still remember it like it was yesterday--lying in the floor kicking and screaming and my mom just leaving me be until I calmed down. I guess I've battled a hot temper since the very beginning.

I'm not quite as bad as I used to be, although I still have my moments. I cringe when I think about all those times when I let my temper get the best of me. My problem is that I spend way too much time in the flesh.

In the flesh I can't tolerate stress, and everything irritates me. I react rashly and lash out with my tongue and oh, how the words can bite. In the flesh, I have no way to handle the pressure as it builds and no weapons with which to battle the impending explosion.

In the flesh, I get angry and I sin. And what a miserable life this is when we foolishly rely on our own flesh to keep ourselves behaving.

But then there's Jesus. And He left us with the precious gift of His Holy Spirit, our only hope of escape from this walking pile of skin and bones and idle words and temper tantrums. I am worthy and whole and effective, all for no other reason than because He dwells within me.

How He can take up residence with the likes of me, I'll never know. But the fact that He does makes me want to do better. It makes me want to renew my mind, to run after Him, to repent of my wayward impulses, to love with His heart.

It makes me desperate to walk in the Spirit.

Because it's only by His Spirit that I can love the unlovable. Only in Him can I control my tongue. Only through Him do I pause and take a deep breath before the storm hits. He reminds me that an outburst won't be worth it, and only by His grace can I proceed with discernment instead of reacting on emotion.

In the Spirit, I can get angry and sin not.

Lashing out in a fit of anger is never worth the hurt it causes, but I know He's my only hope for doing better. May we abandon our flesh and the sin that goes with it in pursuit of a life lived with a heart like His.

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

31 Days: #13 A fondness for junk-food

When I'm going through something horrible, it's easy for me to lose weight because I can't eat when I'm upset. But when I'm happy, it's time to pull out the fat clothes. And since I'm pretty happy these days, I'm to the point where I can barely button my very fattest jeans.

We're always on the go and it's way too easy to hit the drive-thrus around town (which we do several times a week). I try not to keep too much junk in my house, but if I gave into temptation I'd load the cupboard up with Ding Dongs, Twinkies, Cheetos, Doritos, every other kind of chip under the sun, every other sweet known to man, and almost all other varieties of junk food. And for meals I would fix nothing but spaghetti, fettucini alfredo, pizza, tacos, mac and cheese, and whatever other full-of-carbs meal you can think of.

So as busy as we are and as much as I crave the wrong foods, then when you throw in my disorganization and poor meal-planning habits, unhealthy eating is a real battle. And it's been heavy on my heart to do better--and to somehow try to undo the damage I've done in not teaching my kids to eat healthier foods. One of them has actually said to me before, "Mom, why do we have to be so healthy around here?!" (What do you do with that?)

I read somewhere recently about a girl who totally gave up sugar. She said she asked the Lord for help and then leaned into Him during times of temptation rather than running toward that which tempted her. So I decided to try the same thing, and this is my new prayer:

Lord, my body is Your temple, so help me treat it as such. Create a desire in me to eat the foods You've given me in their wholest form possible. Please repulse me with the things that are bad for me. Seriously, Lord, make them seem completely gross and disgusting to me. Also, please put a desire in the hearts of my kids to want to eat more healthfully. I don't want them complaining every time I fix a healthy meal.

And you know what? I'm starting to feel differently about what I put into my body. The yucky stuff (even the good-tasting yucky stuff) isn't as appealing to me all of the sudden. In the last week I've crossed paths with three different people who have talked about going all organic and how much healthier it is. They've told stories of unexplained illnesses that disappeared after cutting out all the processed stuff and eating natural foods. 

Yesterday I had a friend ask me if I've ever eaten an organic apple. I said I hadn't. She said, "If you ever do, you'll never want the other kind again!"

So I went shopping last night, and today I had my first-ever organic apple. And it was delicious. As I was checking out at the store, I added one more line to my prayer: Lord, help me somehow pay for this expensive food. But I have a feeling I'd be able to afford a better diet if I abandoned buying the bad stuff in favor of the good.

And here's the biggest miracle of all. My fifteen-year-old son who's 6'2" and the hungriest in the house (the one who hates being "healthy" all the time), came to me the other day and said he wants to start eating healthier and to please not let him have junk anymore, even if he asks for it. Thank You, Lord.

So these are my guidelines:

• Skip processed foods
• Get enough protein
• Eat as many colors as possible
• Don't overcook the vegetables
• Go organic as much as I can afford (dairy and fruit, at the very least)
• Stick with the true serving sizes
• Buy only all-natural, no hormone meat (I'd love to do wild-caught fish and free-range chicken, but it's crazy-expensive)
• Get out and move more (this could be a post in itself) 

Just seeing it in print makes me feel better. I'll let you know how it goes. :)

{p.s. This is my 100th post!}

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

31 Days: #2 Impatience

She had a little scratch on her hand, and she came in to show me and wanted me to look right now. But I was in a rush trying to put on mascara.

You know how it is. Once you take the brush out of the bottle you only have so much time before the air dries it out too much. So I had my face all up in the mirror doing my lashes in deep concentration, but she pressed and her urgency made me go ahead and look. And when I did, I saw an "injury" so microscopic I could barely see it without glasses.

I sighed, irritated at her impatience. And as I went back to my now-clumpy lashes and my gunked-up brush, I realized that I'm just as impatient as she is. Probably more so.

For me, waiting for something is like having my hands tied together. Depending on how long I have to wait, the rope can seem quite knotted up. And the undoing of those knots is out of my control, hence my many impatience-induced freak-outs (or at the very least, sighs of irritation).

Oftentimes the circumstance will eventually unknot itself, but with the bigger, more complicated knots in life, I need the Lord to undo them for me. It's never fun to wait, and most of the time it frustrates me that He won't just cut those knots loose and let me continue on my way with my hands free. Instead He chooses to pick them out slowly, like a mama picking knots out of her little child's shoes.

I know He has His reasons for doing things the longer way. And maybe one of His reasons is as simple as growing my patience. Maybe He's teaching me to just pause and breathe in Jesus so I won't huff out irritation. After all, how important is mascara, really?

But You, O Lord, are a God full of compassion, and gracious, longsuffering and abundant in mercy and truth.  Psalm 86:15

*This post is part of a series running through the month of October 2011. Read from the beginning here.  Find the other 31-Dayers here.

I {still} slam doors.

We had a "misunderstanding" over the weekend. Well, actually I had a misunderstanding--and it wasn't pretty. I got angry and let him know it. He tried talking things out, but I only got more upset.

So I got my angry self up and marched right out of the room and away from the words that would've brought me peace if only I'd listened to the truth of what he was saying. I even slammed a door on my way out.

And you know what he did? He opened that door right up and came and found me and said he was sorry for hurting me, sorry for the thing I was upset about. Sorry for the thing I misconstrued to be something it wasn't.

So I acted like a baby, and he showed me compassion.

And today it brings me to tears how much he cared that I was hurt--in spite of my anger, in spite of the fit I threw, and even though the reason for it all existed only in my imagination. That's quite an example to set for someone {like me} who used to feel justified in getting mad at the other person simply because they got mad at me first. Or for someone {like me} who goes around slamming doors when they get mad. I thought I'd risen above that sort of thing.

There was a time not so long ago when I said I was done with relationships, done taking chances on love. Then a friend heard me say so and warned me not to place limits on what God might be doing in my life. She assured me there would be someone else in my future, and I remember her words clearly as she prophesied: "He will be so full of Jesus that he will bring tears to your eyes and healing to your heart."

And what a difference the love of Jesus makes. How it heals the hurts of our past. What mercy. Thank you, Lord.

Oh, and B? I'm sorry again. Thank you for loving me anyway. You are full of Jesus and it does make me cry.

181. he opens doors:)

182. he loves Jesus more than he loves anyone else

183. he's painstakingly careful with his words

184. he brought me roses again

185. and I'll never, ever get tired of seeing them or smelling them

186. he's up for fun outings on the spur of the moment

187. he lets me play in his band even though they are professionals and I'm not

188. he gave an amazing message on Sunday (even though it made me want to sink down and disappear into my chair a little)

189. his music makes me bawl my head off

190. he calls me during the day

191. he texts me, too, even though he still has a flip phone and each text must take him forever

192. he cherishes the word of God and has hidden more of it in his heart than anyone I've ever known

193. he makes me stop it when I'm being negative about myself

194. he hollers {really loudly} at the TV screen during football games, even in restaurants 

195. then he's like, "What?" when I laugh about it

196. he's a blast to hang out with

197. he prays for me

198. he strives for excellence in everything he does

199. he's an amazing leader {in settings of worship and otherwise}

200. he has the memory of an elephant yet he never, ever uses it against me. Amen.

5-Minute Friday: "Joy"

GO.
I grew up a Southern Baptist girl with the sounds of Gaither music swirling in the air, both at home and at church. When I thought of joy this morning, a Gaither song came to mind.

Hold on my child, joy comes in the morning ...

I used to think joy meant happiness and laughing. I used to think sadness came when joy flew the coop. But now I know that joy isn't always a feeling.

I've learned that we can only know the fullest joy by going deeper in Jesus. Because once we do, we know Who's holding us in His great big capable hands. We trust that it'll all be okay, one way or another. We get that this isn't our home and these things don't matter nearly as much as we once thought they did. We could turn cartwheels over the prospect of spending eternity with Him in Person, every single day.

For me true joy is being wildly thankful, serenely at peace, and blindly trusting all at the same time. It's living life in relentless pursuit of Him and hanging on for dear life even through the tears and the turmoil. It's remembering that even if I can't smile now, I will again soon. It's knowing He's in control and He's already secured us and everything's gonna be alright.

Sometimes it all comes out in smiles and laughter, but the joy's still there when it doesn't. This is the truest, deepest, most amazing joy. The joy of the Lord.

For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5

STOP.
Linking up with Gypsy Mama today for her 5-Minute Friday post (where she calls out a topic and we just write for five minutes without worrying whether it's just right or not.) Happy Friday to you!

Too many Tootsie Rolls

The other day I read a really good Proverbs 31 devotional by Lysa TerKeurst entitled The Slippery Slope. It's about a married woman who fell into a devastating deception that began all because of a little attention paid her by a man she wasn't married to.

It seemed innocent enough at first--just a mild attraction. But one thing led to another as it always does, and before long she was meeting with him in secret. And down the slippery slope she slid.

Lysa writes, "Things being done in secret are an indication of being led by Satan." She talks about how Satan loves to keep us operating in our dark secrets, and about how skilled he is at keeping us blind to what's really going on.

After all, deceiving people is one of the things he does best. And though I'm not married anymore, I definitely get what it's like to be deceived by the wicked one.

I also know all about falling into the trap of too many secrets. A few hours after I read Lysa's devotional, I was sitting in an all-day meeting at work, and there was a bowl of Tootsie Rolls on the table in front of me. I don't even really like Tootsie Rolls (I'd rather splurge on real chocolate), so for the first two hours of the meeting, I did just fine. But then I got bored, and what did I do? I reached for a Tootsie Roll.

Then I got another. And I wrapped the first wrapper up in the second ... you know, to hide that I'd had two Tootsie Rolls. Then I ate another, and wrapped the first two wrappers up inside the third wrapper, just to keep the number private.

And I kept going. And pretty soon, I'd wrapped up so many wrappers inside new wrappers that I ended up with one great big ball of Tootsie Roll wrappers.

Suddenly it was no longer easy to hide that I'd eaten something like nineteen dumb pieces of candy. And I was embarrassed. Ashamed. All I wanted to do was hide the big ball.

And then I thought of the devotion I'd read just that morning, about keeping secrets. I realized that it's not just about hiding the extreme behaviors. I have all sorts of little things I don't want anyone to know about. Eating ... spending ... being lazy ... you know, stuff like that.

So, my lesson in this Tootsie Roll escapade is that if I am doing something that I for any reason feel compelled to hide or keep secret, then I need to question whether I should be doing it or not. So I'm making it my new goal to live a life free of deep, dark secrets.

It's not always about the Tootsie Rolls, as this is one of my less scandalous secrets. But I'm guessing that my new secret-free life will not only help me shed a few extra pounds, but also bring to light many other shameful burdens (big and small) that I tend to carry around. It's strange how freeing the exposure of sin can be. What irony.

Or, maybe it's not so ironic. After all, the light of Jesus has a way of making the prince of darkness look like a fool.

Let me be a tree...

Oh, how I love a big, beautiful tree.

I had lots of trees growing up. My father loves them, too, and he always made sure we had plenty of trees in our yard. If we moved into a house that didn't have enough trees, he would hire big trucks to haul them in and plant them. One time he bought a new tree for each of us, and we even got to name it. Mine was named Albert.

Now I live in a new-ish neighborhood that lacks mature vegetation, and I am missing the trees.

I have one lone tree in my yard--a young live oak. It seems healthy enough, but it's sensitive to the heat, and I have to water it often. It's fighting to grow and become stronger, but sometimes it struggles.

I am like that tree.

But I have hope, because I know that one day the little tree that grows in my yard will mature into an inviting presence to grace the outside of my home. It will stand tall and its roots will go deep. Its branches will be hearty after years of pruning. It will be strong enough for children to climb and sturdy enough to withstand dangerous winds and bad weather. Some day it will bear fruit, and its acorns will feed squirrels and birds and provide seed for new life. Its presence will draw people into the protection of its shade. It will be solid. It will be a tree mature enough to endure all seasons.

I hope to grow into this kind of tree. But like the little tree outside, I have a long way to go. I try to do well, but the heat gets to me. I need quite a bit of attention from my Caretaker. I also need a lot of pruning, and I'm sure I must require Him to work extra hard to rid me of the lifeless, unfruitful parts of my heart. Even though I might bear fruit, it's not as much as I'd like. My roots don't go all that deep yet; I stay very thirsty. I'm too weak to do a good job of standing tall in storms. In fact, oftentimes I bend in the wind, almost to the breaking point. I have a lot of maturing to do yet.

But I know He is doing a work in me. May He continue to prune me, even though it hurts. I want to be deeply rooted and strong enough to endure through every season, no matter what life hurls at me. I want to bear fruit so that others may see Jesus in me. I want to live a holy life that compels others to do the same. Just as an old oak tree draws us to its shade, I pray that I might be the kind of example that draws others into His presence. May He use me to plant seeds in the hearts of others that will bring forth a bountiful harvest of souls for His kingdom.

He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither; and whatever he does shall prosper. Psalm 1:3

Lord, grow me into this kind of tree....

Even if I have to bite my tongue off...

What's the most joyous thing anyone ever told you? What's the most devastating? It's a peculiar thing, what words can do. Words can evoke emotion on the broadest spectrum, no matter whether spoken, written, sung, or typed. Words can encourage and empower, yet crush and destroy. Words can be used to utter heartfelt prayers and bring lost souls to Jesus, yet they can coax, seduce, and brainwash the masses into believing a lie. We wield incredible power through the use of our words.

I have struggled my entire life with taming my tongue. Just ask my mom---I'm pretty sure I was born a smart aleck. But growing up, I only made use of this particular ability if my dad wasn't home. Or if he was home, I made sure he was out of earshot. I used to smart off to my teachers in school...and if any of those teachers had ever called my parents (I'm very surprised they didn't, by the way), I would have been in big trouble. I'm talking big trouble! My dad never did put up with a smart mouth.

So I was always very good at turning it off and on. I knew I could control my mouth if I chose to. I just didn't usually choose to, and unfortunately this carried on well into my adult years. I'm so ashamed of the times when I have spoken hurtful words to others.


Death and life are in the power of the tongue, And those who love it will eat its fruit. Proverbs 18:21

I have always enjoyed using words to get my point across, even if the point really shouldn't have been made. Words are important to me. I take them to heart. When someone says something deeply meaningful or especially encouraging to me, I don't forget it. I think about it and dwell on it. I savor it and recall the memory over and over again.

But words that hurt are just as hard to forget. A good friend of mine reminds me often that with words we can tear down in a mere moment what it may have taken years to build. I know this to be true as I have experienced it firsthand. Careless words spoken in sarcasm or cruelty can inflict pain so great, the memory of them can be devastating. Sometimes this pain remains with us for the rest of our lives. Once it's been spoken, it can't be taken back. How tragic. And also, how scary, because eventually we all will have some explaining to do.


Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. Matthew 12:36

Thank God He uses the trials we go through to refine us. I desperately hope that I am forever changed. May I reflect the heart of Jesus in my speech as I seek to utter only words of truth, comfort, peace, and love. May I put my flesh aside when I experience the urge to lash out. May I practice self control, even if I have to bite my tongue off!


Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers. Ephesians 4:29

Holy Spirit, tame my tongue. Help me to bear Your fruit with all that comes forth from my mouth. Convict my heart when I do damage with my words. May I never tear others down with my words, but by Your Spirit may I speak only that which serves to build up and encourage. Forgive me for my many tongue-related transgressions. Heal the damage I've done, and change me permanently. May I live by Your example. Amen!

How I walk now

Romans 8:5  For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit, the things of the Spirit. 6 For to be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.

Maybe it shouldn't be funny to me, but I laugh at how my fourteen-year-old son describes it when I lose my temper. He says I "go all crazy" on him. Mind you, he's the same kid who says I'm "yelling" at him even if it's only a gentle correction delivered in my normal speaking voice. But as much as I hate to admit it, all too often he's right. When things don't go my way, I have to work very hard not to go completely nuts. For most of my life I have exercised no restraint when it came to holding my tongue, keeping my voice low, refraining from throwing things, saying things I shouldn't, or any other form of self-control. I cringe when I consider how much I really do have to be ashamed of regarding my behavior, both past and present.

My problem is that I tend to walk each day in the flesh rather than in the Spirit. In the flesh, I see everyday occurrences as irritations...I see people as annoying...I see every little nuisance as just another addition to my ever-increasing mountain of stress...and I always think yelling will somehow make me feel better, so I just give in and throw my fits. But the truth is that reacting in fits of rage doesn't make me feel the least bit better. Instead it brings feelings of guilt and condemnation and regret for being such a poor example to those I love and whom God has entrusted to my care.

But the Lord has taught me that the road to real peace requires me to walk in the Spirit. In the Spirit, I strive to be like Jesus. I choose to love people rather than merely put up with them. I see life's little nuisances not as permission to blow my fuse, but as opportunity to exhibit patience. I choose to speak words that build up and exhort rather than tear down and discourage. In the Spirit, I see everything in a completely different light. The things that matter to me when in the flesh just aren't nearly as big a deal anymore, and even more importantly, when I walk in the Spirit, others will know it because they will see fruit.

Galatians 5:22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law. 24 And those who are Christ's have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.

There is no way I can bear fruit while yelling, throwing things, or any other form of "going all crazy". It's a conscious decision I have to make daily, hourly, even moment by moment. And the more determined I am to walk in the Spirit, the more determined the enemy is to throw things in my path to trip me up. Just this morning I told myself that no matter how many things were going wrong to make me late for work, I would not succumb to my old habits and throw a fit. Despite my stressful week filled with late-night ball games, church functions, programs at work,  and preoccupation with the busy weekend ahead, I really, really did not want to go nuts. I wanted to walk in the Spirit. But the traffic finally did me in, and I reverted to my fleshly ways for a moment. Disappointed in myself, I quickly repented and then apologized to my one child who witnessed my fit (incidentally, the same son who calls episodes like this "going all crazy"). I went on to have a good day--but then tonight, guess what I did? I had another moment and went nuts...again.

Galatians 6:8 For he who sows to his flesh will of the flesh reap corruption, but he who sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit reap everlasting life.

The battle against flesh is never-ending. I'm so thankful that it's all under the Blood and I am covered by His grace. I get to start over again and again, as many times as it takes. But of one thing I am certain: there is nothing good about my flesh. The only thing good in me is Jesus. In Him I am fruitful, and to live by His Holy Spirit brings life and love and peace.

Thank you, Lord, for teaching me to walk in Your Spirit, and thank You that You are a God of infinite chances. Help me to live my life in a way that I may bear Your fruit. Do whatever You have to do in me to make me even more fruitful with each passing day.