The Shadow Of My Porch Swing - Part 4نموونە

Doors

The morning began in utter silence. No wind, no sound, no sun. Just me, my coffee 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 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 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 coffee 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: 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 his 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 son for it all. Acutely aware of my part, I apologize both to him and to Christ. Sin was at the door and I had let it right in. 

Where are you prone to open the door to sin? What guards do you need to set up to protect your heart, mind, or mouth?

Father, your Word is clear that this life is full of temptations. Daily I get to choose what doors I open in my life. Give me a desire to open the Bible and be drawn to You and not sin. I can’t do it on my own. Jesus, be the guardian of my door.