It surrounds me and curls me in its tentacles, choking me until the darkness creeps over my eyes and I no longer see the Light. My gasps for air drown out my praises. I am desperate for help. Flailing wildly, I reach for those around me. I draw them into my clutches, and succeed only in bringing them into the trap with me. Together, we sink.
I need to be intentional about staying far away from negativity, and its source. There are idols I need to cast aside, people I need to limit interaction with, and words I need to stop uttering. Which brings me to challenge myself for the remaining three weeks of September.
For my own good. For the good of my husband and my daughter. For the good of my friends. For the good of my Lord.
I'm praying that my heart will be changed by the end of this experiment and that it will make an impact on others around me.
Everything about which we are tempted to complain may be the very instrument whereby the Potter intends to shape His clay into the image of His Son - a headache, an insult, a long line at the check-out, someone's rudeness or failure to say thank you, misunderstanding, disappointment, interruption. As Amy Carmichael said, "See in it a chance to die", meaning a chance to leave self behind and say YES to the will of God, to be "comfortable unto His death." Not a morbid martyr-complex but a peaceful and happy contentment in the assurance that goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives. Wouldn't our children learn godliness if they saw the example of contentment instead of complaint? acceptance instead of rebellion? peace instead of frustration?
Elisabeth Elliot, Keep a Quiet Heart
Are you with me?
(Comments are open so that we can hold each other accountable)