Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life. [Psalm 139:23-24 (NLT)]
The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is? [Jeremiah 17:9 (NLT)]
Last week, my foot accidentally made unfortunate contact with an unmovable and incredibly hard piece of furniture. The intense jolt of pain that radiated from my toes through my foot caused words to come spewing out of this church lady’s mouth that had no business being there. While icing my bruised and swollen foot that evening, I recalled C.S. Lewis’ observation that provocation isn’t really what makes us “ill-tempered;” it simply shows us how ill-tempered we really are.
When our immediate response to something or someone is positive—the sort of thing Jesus would do—we’re more than willing to acknowledge our bravery, patience, compassion, or generosity. But, when our instant response to something (or someone) is less than stellar, rather than owning up to our sinfulness, we tend to blame the situation or other person. Justifying ourselves, it was the extenuating circumstance, problematic person, excessive demands (or table leg) that provoked, taxed, perturbed or goaded us into behavior unbecoming of a Christ follower. We, however, can’t have it both ways! Our emotions—our gut reactions, knee jerk responses, and unthinking words—reveal who and what we truly are deep inside.
In Mere Christianity, Lewis likens the sins that are usually revealed only when we’re taken by surprise to “rats in the cellar.” Not seeing the rats when we turn on the light and noisily stomp down the stairs doesn’t mean they’re not there. Most likely, those rats (like our hidden sins), will be seen only when they’re taken by surprise.
It isn’t life’s ambushes—the grueling day, a salesclerk’s rudeness, impossible deadlines, unreturned phone calls, a co-worker’s spitefulness, the vicious tweet, or even broken toes—that cause us to sin; those ambushes just reveal how sinful we actually are. When James and Peter wrote about considering our trials a reason for joy because they help us mature, I thought they were referring only to the significant and often long-lasting challenges of life. Lewis’s words made me consider that those trials include the small, often inconsequential, aggravations and vexations of life that come without warning. They are God’s way of shining a light on the rats in our cellars!
What a man does when he is taken off guard is the best evidence for what sort of man he is. [C.S. Lewis]
I used to look forward to our occasional stops in the bank where a tray of homemade cookies always was laid out for their customers. I admit to having no will-power when it came to their white chocolate chip/macadamia nut cookies. With a hint of lemon, they were so delicious that I searched the internet to find the recipe so I could skip the bank visit. Several recipes came close but none were quite right so, using those as a guide, I developed a recipe that met the taste test!
Several years ago, our mountain church hosted a concert sponsored by the small Jewish congregation in town. I vividly remember the end of the program as Jews and Gentiles sang Hava Nagila, joined hands, and danced the hora around our large sanctuary. Impressed by the performer’s energy, passion, and love of God, I purchased one of his recordings. Yesterday, after sorting through some old books and CDs, I listened to it for the first time in over 10 years. The music was composed and performed by a man who still performs today but the Hebrew words he sang were those of the Hallel and over 2,000 years old.
Although ancient Israel did have lions, they rarely wandered the streets and today’s verse about the sluggard who uses preposterous excuses to avoid work reminded me of more than 45 years ago when I regularly hosted a support group for nursing mothers. Among the chairs in our family room was a large La-Z-Boy rocking recliner. On meeting nights, that chair should have been occupied by the mom with infant twins or the woman within days of giving birth but the women who usually made a bee-line for the comfy rocker were the ones I came to think of as “the excusers.” Although they arrived with a litany of new mother complaints and said they wanted advice, they always had a reason why every suggestion wouldn’t work. While not quite as far-fetched as claiming a stray lion was in the road, some of their excuses came close. Perhaps, operating under the mistaken belief that motherhood was undemanding and trouble-free or that their lives weren’t going to change substantially with a baby’s arrival, these young mothers found it easier to wallow in their misery in a La-Z-Boy than to make an effort to solve their problems and find a way to make their new normal work. Apparently, they weren’t familiar with Proverbs 19:20: “Get all the advice and instruction you can, so you will be wise the rest of your life.”
Last summer, we moved permanently to our home in Florida. Knowing we’d no longer be spending any time in the cold winters of the Midwest, I packed up our winter attire for the charity resale shop. Along with the many coats, scarves, hats, and boots, I had a pile of winter mittens and gloves. Along with our super warm double ragg mittens, my husband and I had an assortment of wool, fleece, and leather gloves. He had a pair of heavy duty insulated Carhartts and I had some polyester/spandex gloves I often wore while walking. While packing up the rest of the house, I came across work gloves in the furnace room, rubber gloves by the wash tub, gardening gloves in the garage, silicone heat resistant gloves by the grill, fingerless gloves in the gym bag, vinyl gloves in the first aid kit, a pair of oven mitts, and even some chemically treated silver polishing gloves! Each pair had a specific use but, without a hand inside any of them, they were nothing but empty shells.
When I wrote about my friend Pat yesterday, I didn’t want to imply that the only thing non-believers miss is eternal life. The saddest part of being a non-believer (or waiting until the eleventh hour to believe), is foregoing the abundance of life promised by Jesus while we live on this side of the grass.
Devotions of the Heart 