The
heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?
"I the LORD search the heart and examine the mind, to reward a man according to his conduct, according to what his deeds deserve.” (Jeremiah 17:9-10)
"I the LORD search the heart and examine the mind, to reward a man according to his conduct, according to what his deeds deserve.” (Jeremiah 17:9-10)
Riding
my bike the other morning, I thanked God for guiding me in the past. I thanked
Him for guiding me in the future because if there is one thing I believe that I
really believe (I said) it is that God will guide me. I have three weeks before
I relocate and have to set up my other half-life, with many questions about
what that is supposed to look like, but I know God will guide.
I got off my bike and decided to get the breakfast dishes out of the way. In the midst of scrubbing oatmeal "glue" from a bowl, anxiety kicked in. What was wrong? Nothing. Just amorphous anxiety, my heart grabbing hold of the leash of that same old rabid dog that has bitten it before. I think it's name is Bwaigda ("But What Am I Gonna Do About.")
Didn't I just say that the one thing I knew was that God will guide me? Yep. Is it any less true? No. But my heart, oh, my heart likes to be in control. It likes to tell me stories. Unfortunately, the stories it tells aren't really good stories. They're often stories of baseless fear, amorphous anxiety, anonymous anger, and spectacular revenge. They aren't the source of the sort of behavior for which I want to be rewarded.
This time, I noticed what I was doing and thought about what a good blog entry it would be. I let go of Bwaigda's leash before she bit me. My answer was that I was going to use her as an example to help others. Does Bwaigda stalk you, too? Don't try to make friends. She's infectious and the cure is painful and only works if provided very quickly.
I got off my bike and decided to get the breakfast dishes out of the way. In the midst of scrubbing oatmeal "glue" from a bowl, anxiety kicked in. What was wrong? Nothing. Just amorphous anxiety, my heart grabbing hold of the leash of that same old rabid dog that has bitten it before. I think it's name is Bwaigda ("But What Am I Gonna Do About.")
Didn't I just say that the one thing I knew was that God will guide me? Yep. Is it any less true? No. But my heart, oh, my heart likes to be in control. It likes to tell me stories. Unfortunately, the stories it tells aren't really good stories. They're often stories of baseless fear, amorphous anxiety, anonymous anger, and spectacular revenge. They aren't the source of the sort of behavior for which I want to be rewarded.
This time, I noticed what I was doing and thought about what a good blog entry it would be. I let go of Bwaigda's leash before she bit me. My answer was that I was going to use her as an example to help others. Does Bwaigda stalk you, too? Don't try to make friends. She's infectious and the cure is painful and only works if provided very quickly.
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