100 Days of Summer 81-90/100

08.29.19.  Self-control. Are you kidding me [more of statement than a question].

Since last weekend, most of the devos Lysa TerKeurst has covered in the EMBRACED book circle around allowing the Word at work in me to control me, because it's changing me from the deep core of the soul outward to my reactions to strangers, family, friends and that other group of beings who have no category with the exception of they get on my one last nerve. My solace is that category is small.

sigh.

My blood started simmering, today, while in a waiting room. A gloriously deserted waiting room. I plug in my cell in the only outlet available and hidden in the room. I retrieve my water bottle and a novel from my roped KAVU®, where all sorts of personal luxuries exist for an extended stay in the waiting room, and settle in for an enjoyable, quiet reading session.

Then, just as the young bride on St. Simon's Island, Georgia, is to plight her troth to the handsome groom from Scotland, he swaggers by and cusses to another lady who just came around the corner and works in this building. Then, he slouches into a chair across the once-empty room and continues to filth & foul about things that only the miserable filth & foul loudly about. 

My head is down and my hat's brim shields my rolling eyes as I continue to refocus on the bridal party's dinner and the many toasts offered up by the loving father of the bride.

He mutters something about fixing or painting something very slowly and making it an all-day project because this is his Friday. With that he starts walking down the hall. My joy is fleeting as he pauses and stands smack dab in front of her whispering in a throaty sound as he makes, what appeared to me, a covert grab at what did not belong to him. Did I really see a sexual harassment just take place? Didn't he just talk about himself having a wife?

Squirming from hip to hip, crossing and uncrossing my legs, I pray, "God, he makes me sick. Make him go away before I stand up." They both move across the hall where I cannot see their activity, but still hear that low, muffled voice. Then, another employee walks down the hall causing the two to separate. I'm just looking around for a supervisorly-ish person to report that bad man's bad behavior. Not a single camera is mounted. Not a single person with authority shows up. Again, they separate, but meander down the hall in the same direction.

I decide that the first chance I get, when she's alone, to let her know she is not being respected and can do better and neither one of them should be conducting themself in this manner in this place...MY QUIET, DESERTED, PUBLIC, WAITING AND READING PLACE!

I never got the opportunity. How I wanted that opportunity with every indignant fiber of my simmering self. I really wanted to verbally kick some tail, today. Honestly, I wasn't sure how he would react to my reaction and I really didn't want him to filth & foul at me, which is most likely what would have happened as I tried to put him in his place. Would I have felt triumphant in my righteous piety?

Ok. So. Back to the Lysa's devotions. Like a sharpened arrow zinged into my brain, instantly I'm reminded of Hebrews 4:12, "For the Word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it slices cleanly through dividing soul and spirit, bone and marrow; its surgical precision separates my thoughts and attitudes and motivations." Scriptures point me back to self-control allowing the living and active Word to be at work in me to control all of me. 

Don't think that I believe God intended for us to be doormats and cowards shrinking away from injustice. I believe He wants us to use wisdom and lean into His voice for guidance.

My blood still simmers thinking about today. But, I know that God's voice whether sensed, heard or written down is working in me and for me. 

Are the Pistols Loaded?

06.19.19.  In a few posts from the past, I have blogged about fear. Although fear manifests itself in different ways, they can all be traced back to that stubborn root. 

Although the paralyzing type of fear does not typically seize me, my spirit will lock down in an unhealthy pattern, sometimes, when an old insecurity tries to sneak its way into my thoughts. I am learning to flip on the porchlight to expose fear for what it is, an invader. 

If you tend to wrestle with fear (worry, anxiety, etc.), perhaps the following reference from Worry: The Big Scary Shadow may serve you:

1. Relax. Breathe.
2. Refrain from giving-in to this crippling shadow-monster.
3. Recognize you're in a negative thought mode and retrace your steps back to the source by asking, "Where did this start?"
4. Remind yourself of 2 Corinthians 10:5, "Casting down imaginations and every thing that sets itself up against the knowledge of God and taking captive (arresting, disabling) every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

In the EMBRACED Day 19 Devo, Lysa TerKeurst wrestles with this nemesis by reminding herself of other God-breathed words of strength found in Isaiah 43:1, Romans 8:38-39, 1 Peter 5:7 and, one of my faves, 2 Timothy 1:7.

God gave us a spirit

not of fear but

of power and love and self-control. 

(2 Timothy 1:7 ESV)

Looking up other versions or translations of this scripture for those three gifts (power, love

and self-control), yielded words like bold, strong, loving, sensible, wise, and sound-judgment any of which could be inserted synonymously.

My response to fear or insecurity is action. Not the good action. Without thinking I attempt to control the situation or trust in my own strength. Sidenote, "without thinking" should be a warning to pause and regroup. Oh no, not me. I run forward with pistols that should be blazing, but in my haste, I didn't load the bullets. That's very bold, but not wise and definitely not recommended. 

Trusting myself is just that. Bold, not wise. I'm not intentionally being disobedient, but my startled reaction to fear or insecurity causes me to go rogue. My prayer is to be wise in the gifts He gave, boldness with love and wisdom. Wisdom reminds me to trust God with my weakness, instead of wrestling with Him. 

Are we alike in this? Aren't we all a work in progress?