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A Prayer for My Children, Growing Up in Troubled Times

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Dear Father,
Thank you for the gift of motherhood. I praise you for bringing so many things about myself into clear focus as I so imperfectly work to disciple my children. I thank you for the ways that You are sanctifying me through motherhood and for the never-ending grace and patience You have for me as Your own child.

Lord, my children are growing up in a world that hates You. They are bombarded every day with ideas that run counter to Your word. Father, please give them clear minds so that they can see what is true. Give them tender hearts so that Your Spirit can mold them into true Christ-followers who don’t waver or falter or live in fear of what this world can do to them. Give them courage to speak truth. Make them leaders who aren’t easily distracted or lured away from the narrow road. Lord, I pray that You would give each of them compassion, humility, kindness, boldness, and an ability to see and appreciate and understand what others can’t. Help them to recognize what matters. I pray that You would give them spiritual eyes to see how You are working and how they can be a part of it.

Lord, I ask that You would save them from the heartache of sexual sin. Protect them from the pornography industry and from sexual abuse and from sexual addiction. Protect their future spouses, too. I pray that they will understand that their worth has nothing to do with their sexual experience or desirability, but that their worth comes from You alone, You who made them and loves them just as they are. Please help them to clearly see the pitfalls of sexual sin and give them the strength to resist temptation.

Father, in a world of meanness and selfishness and self-centered action, please give my children kind spirits and broken hearts for those who are hurting. Help them and their generation to change the way that people communicate on the internet and in real life. Give them a distaste for cruel and biting rhetoric and help them to speak the truth with love and tenderness instead of self-righteous pride.

Most of all, Lord, please give my children an insatiable desire to know You more. Help them to seek You first, and gift them with the rare ability to understand that eternal things are the only things of importance. I want them to be happy, Father, but if their happiness were to lead them away from You, then I would pray more earnestly for their deep reliance on and trust in You. The kind of trust that brings joy and peace, even when happiness is just out of reach.

Lord, I acknowledge my own weaknesses in every single area that I’ve mentioned here, and I pray that You would help us all, as a family, to love You with all of our hearts, souls, minds, and strength. Grant us wisdom, Lord, and help us to stay faithful until the very end. All of these things I ask with a humble heart before Your greatness and goodness and mercy and grace. Amen.

Paul McCartney, Art, and the Real Meaning of Life

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I’m a huge Beatles fan. When all of my friends were chasing after boy bands and big-haired pop stars, I was sitting in my room soaking up every sonic delight of John, Paul, George, and Ringo. I suppose all Beatles fans have a favorite, and mine will forever be Paul McCartney. A few years ago I had the chance to spend an evening with Paul in Cowboys stadium with tens of thousands of other huge fans, and I’ll never forget the way that gigantic metal dome seemed to melt into a sway as we all sang “Hey Jude” together at the top of our voices. Paul, already nearing 70 years old, performed brilliantly for hours, and to be perfectly honest with you, it was one of the greatest nights of my life.

I suppose with art we have a tendency to try to separate the art from the artist. We don’t want to go to an art museum and know everything about the artist–we just want to look at the art and enjoy it on its own merit. Yet, artistic expression can be terrifyingly revealing. The Bible tells us that out of the mouth the heart speaks, and perhaps the same is true of the paint brush or the guitar chord. Think of David’s psalms, so raw in revealing every tormenting thought and every lilting praise. We want to separate art from the person of the artist, but the truth is that art is a reflection of its creator, and, in many ways, a person’s art is a reflection of what is inside of them. Apply this concept to the Beatles and you may determine that what was inside of them was a bunch of nonsense. Yet, songs like “Yesterday” and “Let It Be” or even “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” speak to us as human beings because we know loss and pain and heartbreak, all consequences of the fall of humanity, even though John and Paul and George probably weren’t thinking about that when they wrote their lyrics.  When we hear these songs, we identify with the longing and the strife, and it moves us. Art very often disturbs or inspires us, and it’s because we know that it is an outpouring of something inside someone else, and many times we see ourselves there, too.

Paul McCartney is now 76 years old, and he is about to release his first new album in several years. In preparation for its debut on September 7, he has released a couple of singles, including “Come On to Me,” a basic rock song about seeking out a sexual encounter, but it has to be “discreet” because the singer and the object of his desire can’t be seen together. The song itself, if I may be so bold as to be a music critic in this moment, is just okay. But, something struck me about the lyrics that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. Here is Paul, a man who has lived the human life for almost 80 years. He has experienced all sorts of joys and heartbreaks, has surely learned lessons through the years, gained insight. Yet, here is his art, and we see no evidence of growth. We see no hints of wisdom gained. If he has learned great life lessons and has discovered what really matters and what doesn’t, we certainly don’t see that played out in his artistic expression here.

I sat in my car and listened, head cocked to one side in an effort to concentrate on the words that my favorite Beatle was belting out. I don’t know how much wisdom Paul has gained through the years. I don’t know how he has grown as a person or what sort of battles he has fought within himself. But, when I heard his art pouring out of the speakers of my minivan, I identified with the way he completely misses the point.

As far as anyone knows, Paul has never professed to be a believer. He has dabbled in religions, at times calling himself an agnostic, or saying he isn’t religious but is spiritual.  Only God knows the condition of his soul, but I don’t expect him to write songs that are about Jesus. Jesus, as far as I know, is not on Paul’s radar. But, without Christ it is no wonder that at 76 years old he still doesn’t have a grasp on what is really meaningful, at least according to his art.

What about me, though? What about you? What is pouring out of us? I just turned 41. As I age, is it clear that I am growing, or am I still singing about the same things that I thought were important in my youth? Do my words, both on paper and in daily conversation reveal that I really understand what this life is about, or is it all vacuous, like an old man’s song about a meaningless affair with a stranger? Those of us who know Christ are without excuse–this life is about Jesus and His glory. It’s about faithfulness, fidelity, about shepherding and stewarding well the things that God has given us. It’s about speaking words and creating things that bring honor to God.

Many times I miss the point. I focus on things of little to no importance. I worry about things that belong to the Lord. I have a heart that is so quick to stray–what is pouring out of it? What is washing over my children and my husband and my friends as I open my mouth and let my wandering heart speak? I pray that I will grow. I pray that when I am 81 you will see a different kind of faith in me, one that has lasted through every desert and every hurricane of life.

There’s still time for Paul. Through the years I have often prayed that God would rescue him from himself. From the curse that he carries around like a heavy chain on his soul. I know what that’s like, and I know that it’s only by God’s mercy that I am free. What would a Paul McCartney worship song sound like? Maybe one day we’ll know. In the meantime, I pray that the Lord would grow and stretch you and me so that whatever pours out of us is what glorifies and honors Him.

Your Husband’s Porn Problem is Not About You

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She pulled me aside to confess her painful secret: she had accidentally discovered that her husband was looking at porn. She was hurt and confused, and her question dropped into the church hallway air between us like a deflated helium balloon: “Why?”

I could see it in her face. In her posture. In her balled fists and her furrowed brow. She was wondering why she wasn’t enough for her husband. She was trying to wrap her troubled mind around what this discovery means about her marriage, about her husband’s love for her, about her physical appearance and her sex life. She was trying to decide how to think about what she could only describe as a betrayal. And she was desperately searching for someone who could explain it all to her.

The black-hole-like pull of pornography is complicated and yet so simple. Men and women alike are drawn to it for various reasons and keep coming back to it because sin is like that—it always seems so glittering and alluring while it kills us little by little. Like all sin, it hurts. It hurts us and it hurts those closest to us. Marriages everywhere are struggling to stay afloat in the middle of the vast ocean of pornographic material that is so readily available. Women often want to know what they are doing wrong to cause their husbands to keep going back to the source of the shame and the failure.

I looked into her precious, worried face, and I told her one thing that I have learned about pornography through the years: Your husband’s pornography problem is not about you.

In fact, it has very little do to with you. It isn’t about how you dress or how you look naked. It isn’t about how you treat your husband or whether he feels loved by you. It isn’t about which sex positions you’re willing to try. And, even if your husband says it is about any of those things, it isn’t.

Your husband’s pornography problem is about one thing. It’s about how sin is always crouching at our door, waiting to devour us. Pornography is such a quick and easy temptation, and it’s everywhere. Your husband wouldn’t be normal if he didn’t struggle with the desire to look at pornography. He didn’t suddenly develop a taste for lustful thoughts and images when he married you. Chances are, he has struggled for most of his life with this issue, and despite what many think, even a happy marriage isn’t a cure for the desire to look at what can be so easily found on the internet.

You may be the sweetest, most doting wife in the world. You may be attentive in the bedroom. You may be in great shape. You may be none of those things. But, nothing you have said or done and nothing that you are or aren’t has driven your husband to look at pornography.

I’m not saying it doesn’t affect you. It does. Very much so. His private struggle is also yours. His failure in this area hurts you deeply. You can help him in many ways as he deals with this temptation, but ultimately it is his battle to fight, and his failures are not yours to own.

Wives, be prayerful. Be gracious. Be tender. Be tough when you must. But, don’t believe for one second that your husband’s pornography problem is about you. Pornography robs a marriage of lots of things: trust, intimacy, openness. Real choices lead to real consequences. But, don’t forget that this is ultimately a spiritual issue, just like your own struggles with sin. It isn’t about your husband’s level of satisfaction with you.

In most cases, pornography is a source of terrible shame for a Christian husband. You can be a great ally for him in this area. I know it’s difficult. I know it’s heartbreaking. But, the more you recognize that your husband’s feelings about you are not the source of the problem, the easier it will be for you to help him gain victory here.

41 Years Old

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Tomorrow I will officially turn 41 years old. I recently heard another blogger talking about how when she turned 41 she decided she was going to do all the things that she wanted to do but had always been too afraid for. She woke up at 41 and completely changed her life. Then she wrote her book and she got on all the talk shows. It’s been fun to watch it all unfold, spying on her life from a distance, seeing a whole bunch of her dreams come true.

Tomorrow I will wake up early and meet a swarm of sweet kids at the church parking lot to head to camp. I’ll get on stage and jump around and sing and I’ll dance in my awkward way, and the day will be long and Texas summer hot and oddly fun. I’m not expecting any revelations when I wake up as a 41-year-old. Here I am, with a blog that has lulled through the summer and a book that is still unwritten, dishes waiting patiently in my sink, three kids who are trying to deny the fact that school will soon be starting. Here I sit, still not reading my Bible enough, still praying too little, still fearing too much, still letting the same old sins creep up on me while I get distracted by all the things that don’t matter.

But, God never quits being patient with me. He is patient like the dishes in my sink. Like the laundry in my baskets. He is patient like that book that is still in my brain. Only with his unending patience comes compassion, understanding, and great love. He has shown me again and again through these decades marked by my imperfection that his grace never stops covering me. He is good. And his goodness keeps binding my wandering heart to my Savior.

There are so many ways I wish I were different. But, one thing I know for sure: Jesus never quits. He never stops saving me from myself. He never throws up his hands in despair and walks away. Blogs and books and even families fade and pass away, but His grip on me is sure.

So, I guess instead of deciding that year 41 will be the year that I finally do all those things that need doing, I will pray that this will be a year of remembering instead that nothing in this wide and wonderful world matters more than the love of Christ. The fact that he would stoop to love me is a miracle that I hope I never get over. Let all that I do in year 41 be for you alone, Lord. You deserve all the glory forever.

The Wrong Way to Pray for Your Future Marriage

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I remember going to some kind of retreat in high school where I was asked to make a list of qualities that I wanted in my future husband. Years later I ran across that list and laughed at the mythical creature that I envisioned God was crafting for me. Strong, but sensitive. Commanding, yet gentle. With unending patience.  Funny, but serious when I want him to be. A man of total integrity, grit, personality, warmth, someone who is always fun and who never gets angry or frustrated, whose first reaction in any situation is prayer, whose second reaction in any situation is putting his arms around me, who wants 10 kids, who has a disposition that will make me understand what it must have been like to hang out with Jesus Himself.

So many times I prayed that God would take some man out there and turn him into a perfect Christian who intuitively knew how to meet every single need I could ever have, like God is a sort of Fairy Godfather who is out to mold the ultimate man for me. I would present my list of demands to Him on a regular basis, with complete confidence that the mythical man I was praying for was the man I deserved.

Never did I have the thought that I might need to spend less time praying that God was crafting a perfect man for my future and more time praying that God would make me into a godly woman.

There is always something missing from the lists that you see on social media. The posts, with titles like, “To My Future Husband” or “What I Want in a Husband” are completely devoid of any admission that maybe, just maybe, we women aren’t the perfect marriage material either. We never stop to think that our future husband may be out there praying for some mythical creature to become his wife, and we don’t meet the criteria.

Women who are waiting, who are longing for marriage and companionship and who have visions of what it will be like, pray for your future husband. Do. Pray that God will protect his heart and mind. Pray that when he faces hardships he will turn to Christ and know Him more. Pray that God will be glorified in his life. But, don’t pray for perfection. Even in your prayers you are establishing expectations that aren’t real life. Pray for your future husband knowing that wherever he is, he is most definitely flawed, most definitely plagued by sin.

But, don’t forget to pray for yourself. Pray that God will grow you and stretch you and make you into a woman of great faith. One who is prepared to be yoked to another sinner saved by God’s grace, pulling your weight, being an instrument of sanctification in your marriage. Pray that God would give you spiritual eyes and that He would give you patience, a kind spirit, and a forgiving heart. Pray for God’s transforming work in your life, knowing that you, too, are far from perfect.

Some women pray for a lifetime for that mythical man only to find that they have been called to singleness. So, even as you pray for your future husband, pray as Jesus instructed: not my will, but yours be done. Pray that Christ will be sufficient, that you will have a special and deep and abiding relationship with the God of the Universe, and that He will show you all of the ways that He can use you in your singleness to further His kingdom and bring Him glory.

Years after I wrote that list as a starry-eyed high schooler, God did send me a man. He wasn’t perfect. He didn’t meet all of my criteria. He came with some baggage and some spiritual confusion and some bad habits. And so did I. And, despite all of my prayers that God would make Chad into a unicorn among men, I quickly realized in year one of marriage that I should have spent much more time praying that God would turn me into a different woman. There is no such thing as perfection in a future partner. Pray that God will give you a love for each other so deep and so real that no scheme of hell can tear you apart. And if He does send you that man someday, know that neither of you will love perfectly or behave brilliantly. Marriage should be a picture of grace. One of the most gracious things you can do for a future mate is put away your list of Fairy Godfather-sponsored perfection and pray sincere prayers that God would change both of you to be more like Jesus.

What I Still Haven’t Really Learned at 40

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Today I’m 40 years old. The kids have been so into my birthday. For two days Emerald has been saying, “Happy birthday, Mama! You’re 50!” And all I can picture is me walking around in stretchy pants, doing high kicks, declaring that I’m 50 years old. Thankfully, I am not quite there yet, although I did recently discover that I can still do a cartwheel. It’s funny how things that every kid can do become suddenly impressive when you’re 40. I suppose that’s one benefit of getting older.

I’ve been working out my salvation with fear and trembling for about 32 years. God has been so good. He has been patient and kind and encouraging and powerful. He has turned me around and forced me to look up and has put a burning desire within me to speak the truth and to try to live the truth. I have grown so much in these 40 years, but there are some things I still haven’t really learned. And, these are the things that keep me tethered in large and small ways to this world, that make me love myself more than I love Christ. If I could only pray one prayer for my next decade, it would be that I truly learn that these are the things that stunt my sanctification and that grieve the good God who rescued me.

It isn’t about me. Everything within me reaches for glory like a sunflower reaches for the sunlight. I have to constantly fight my need for praise and honor, and it shows, in my parenting, in my marriage, in my blogging, in my ministering. It’s a sickness, this urge to steal the glory that belongs to Christ. Lord, help me to live for your glory alone. Help me to be reminded, even when it’s painful, that this life isn’t about me. It’s about you.

Rule following doesn’t equal holiness. I am a rule-lover from way back. It’s easy for me to rest in my ability to follow the rules, and I have very little patience with those who break rules. I am lacking in compassion when it comes to those who are struggling, even though when I struggle I expect patience and understanding. My love for rules often trumps my love for people, and I tend to have more of a relationship with moral behavior than I do with Jesus. Lord, please help me to remember that rule-following doesn’t please you if my heart is hard and prideful. Open my heart to people and help me to grow in compassion and understanding.

Out of the mouth, the heart speaks. I often feel convicted about what I say. I talk when I should be quiet, and I say things that I should never allow to leave my lips. I say that I have a hard time controlling my tongue, but the truth of the matter is that what comes out of my mouth is only a symptom of what is really inside of me. So, it’s not my mouth I need to tame, it’s me. My sinful and selfish heart. Instead of harsh words or gossip, prayer should be what’s pouring out of me. Prayer and praise and encouragement and love. Jesus, help me to tame my heart so that I can tame my tongue. Give me the desires of your heart instead the selfish wants of mine.

Every milestone in life is a good opportunity for some soul-searching. At 40, these are a few of the ways that I clearly see I need to grow and change. I know I can, with Christ’s help. One thing I have learned through the years is that I never have to give up hope that He can change me and make me more like Him. If I want to be a more fruitful disciple, a more loving wife, a more influential mother, a wiser friend, then these are three areas that I know must change. Maybe by the time I’m 50, I can put on my stretchy pants and do a few high kicks, knowing that Jesus has had another decade to mold me into someone more like Him. He has already proven that He is the most faithful friend. I love Him. But, I want to love Him more. I believe, Jesus. Help me in my unbelief.

Marriage Wounds

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The year was 1998, and Chad Edgington had decided he wanted to marry me. He scrimped and saved and schemed to buy a little diamond, and he delivered it, delicately, to a pair of brothers he knew in Nashville who were jewelry makers. He had a vision for what he wanted it to look like, and he left his words of instruction and his precious, hard-fought diamond in their care to wait and see what they would create.

The result was a never before like it or after it, truly unique, hand-crafted golden ring. It is beautiful. And, I have always felt like its unique beauty is a fair representation of the love that I have had for this boy for the past twenty years of my life.

The truth is that most days I hardly even notice the ring on my hand. But, a few days ago I looked down and realized that somehow in the course of my work, my ring had gotten knocked against my finger and had left a small cut there, hidden underneath the beautiful gold, a scar on the delicate-looking redhead’s fair flesh of my left hand. I was surprised to see it there, because in all of these years of dealing with babies and a mother’s work, I never remember my ring doing such a thing. But, there it was. A wound inflicted by the very symbol of never-ending love between a man and a woman.

I sat there for a moment and stared at my hand. It didn’t look compatible, the lovely gold set alongside the ugly gash on my freckled finger. But, I don’t know that I have ever seen a clearer picture of how marriage is an exquisitely painful, sacred journey of sanctification. Having a spouse is like living with a mirror that constantly shows you where you are weak, where you are prideful, and how in desperate need of a Savior you really are. Chad and I never could have known, all those years ago when he slipped this ring on my finger, how much joy would really be in it or how much heartbreak. Jesus put a rare love in our hearts for one another, and He has used that love to wound us in the most wondrous ways. Ways that show us who we are and who we want to be. Ways that show us how likely our hearts are to falter. Ways that show us how great His love for us really is.

The mark on my finger is almost healed now. Soon it will go away, and all that will remain is the freckles and the gold and diamond that a young idealist once scrimped and sacrificed to gift to me. For half of our lives now we have loved and hurt and grown and agonized together. And still, we are idealists. Because we have learned in this life together that God can do what seems impossible. He can take two kids who only know that they are madly in love, and He can teach them how to sanctify one another, one wound at a time. He can use great pain to bring indescribable joy. He can bind up every hurt with His love and tenderness. And, He can use every scar to show the world how great He really is.

The ring on my finger is so much more than a piece of jewelry. It is hurt. It is healing. It is sacrifice and sanctification. And, it is a testimony to godly love. Marriage is the gospel in motion. We are forever changed.

Your Mom Has a Blog Podcast, Episode 30

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To celebrate our 30th episode, we invited our second most popular guest to come back: the one and only Jackson Chang! We talk about what we were doing at 30, being open, thoughts on sanctification, Jackson’s knack for getting food poisoning, and more. Thanks for listening!

Here’s Jackson’s dancing video we talk about. It was an instant classic.

Marriage is Trusting Each Other on the Winding Mountain Roads of Life

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I have always been a vivid dreamer. When I was a kid, for years I had a recurring dream about a monster in the foyer of our house. As an adult, my dreams are often about hiding from tornadoes or driving into floodwaters with my kids in the car. Every single dream seems so real that when I finally wake up in our cool, dark bedroom with Chad breathing beside me, it’s the best kind of relief.

Recently I had one of my worst dreams to date. Chad and I were on a dark, twisting road high on a mountain. I was driving, and it was raining, of course. I was struggling to see the line on the road through the steady downpour. We came to a sharp curve to the right, and I couldn’t see it. I drove off of the cliff we had been teetering on the edge of. I had the sensation of falling, though we were still strapped in by our seatbelts. We held onto each other in sheer terror, and I kept saying it over and over again: I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was just waiting for the moment of impact, knowing there was nothing more I could do to save us or turn back time on my very, very wrong turn. And, all I could really think about in that terrifying, free-fall moment was how I had ruined everything, and I had taken Chad down with me.

Before you decide that I need to be psycho-analyzed, you should know that I also have quite a few dreams about aliens. So, yeah, probably need to go ahead and make that appointment.

The truth is that this terrible dream is actually a pretty good analogy for a wrecked marriage. We underestimate the weight of what we’re really doing on the day we walk down the aisle. I know when I put on a white dress at twenty-one, I wasn’t all that aware that I was actually taking my dreams, my insecurities, my issues, my fears, my entire future, and I was telling Chad and the whole world that I trust him with all of it.  And, the real miracle of the whole deal is that he was doing the same with me. We were willing to lay it all at each other’s feet and just pray to God that we were both trustworthy.

It’s a brave thing, getting married.

It doesn’t take long in marriage to figure out that we are leading each other into all kinds of things, good and bad. We take on some of the same habits. We introduce each other to our tastes, and sometimes, because we are two imperfect people with sinful tendencies, we lead each other into sin. I wonder if we realize on that day at the altar, just how much we are depending on each other for accountability, for encouragement to follow Christ, for a godly example being lived out in our home, day after day?

I wonder if we really understand how sacred the gift of that trust really is?

For Christian people, marriage should be a blessing in our lives that makes us more like Christ. It should be the difference between wandering off the side of a cliff and making it safely to the next rest stop. Seeking Christ is not a singular pursuit in marriage–it’s a joint effort. Yes, we have individual responsibility to study His word and try to know Him more. But, our marriages should make us more holy, not less. They should help us to run the race with perseverance, not distract us to the point of forgetting that we’re even running.

Dear young single Christian, consider this when you are choosing a husband or wife. Really step back and take stock: will this person help you become more like Christ through the years? Or when the steep, rocky, mountainous roads crop up, will they lead you right off of a cliff?

Married Christians, are you being the type of partner who is trustworthy to carry the burden of your spouse’s sinful tendencies? Are you committed to keeping both of you on the road to sanctification, or are you losing your way and taking your spouse with you? In a one-flesh existence, there is no such thing as “my problem” or “your problem.” We are called to share our burdens, and we both have the awesome responsibility of holding tight to each other while we hold tight to Christ.

And the glory of it all is that His grip on us never fails.

We have to start viewing our marriages as fertile ground for growth and holiness. Unless we start taking our own sin seriously, we will fail in our efforts to lead each other in the ways of Christ.

You have so much more influence on your spouse than you know. Where are you leading her? Who are you encouraging him to be? My prayer is that at the end of a long and fruitful life together, Chad and I will be able to approach the throne with all assurance that we helped each other know Christ more.

The Harmless Sins are the Most Dangerous of Them All

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Once more social media is filled with the news of Christian Grey. I watch with interest as Christian women plan evenings out that revolve around the new movie. They joke about how eager their husbands will be have them home afterward–their sexual passions stirred by an actor who isn’t their husband, portraying a twisted, cruel character who isn’t their husband. And, I suppose the prevailing attitude is that men don’t care by what means their wives get in the mood for sex, so long as they get in the mood.

But, if this is how we think of our husbands, we’re wrong. Men do care if their wives are ogling other men, even if those men are actors who live a thousand miles away in a different world. Even if lusting after a man you aren’t married to is generally considered harmless these days.

The harmless sins are the most dangerous of them all.

They are the ones we explain away with a little shrug, a wave of the hand, a joke. They are the ones we justify over and over again. They are the ones that are so easy to fall into. And, they are ones that are killing us.

But, I’m not just picking on 50 Shades of Grey. Temptation to sin is everywhere, and one thing that makes sin so appealing–one thing that convinces us that it is irresistible–is that we honestly consider most of it to be no big deal. Pornography, gossip, jealousy, hatred, dishonoring our parents, lust. All of these can seem utterly harmless to us when we are in the thick of temptation. We tell ourselves that it won’t hurt anyone, but we are wrong about that, too. Sin always hurts. We hurt ourselves and we hurt other people and we grieve God. No sin is harmless. There is always harm done. Always.

But, we aren’t left with no hope of conquering temptation, no matter how fiercely it tries to drag us into the pit. There is always a moment before sin in which we choose. That moment is where the battle for purity and holiness is won or lost, many times a day, every single day. Left to our own willpower, we would choose sin more often than not. But, if we know Christ, then we have been emboldened and empowered by the Holy Spirit to resist temptation in all its forms. If we think through all of the choices that we make in a day, we will get a fairly clear picture of what kind of faith life we’re leading. How often do we give into temptation with little or no fight? How often do we forge ahead with our sin, barely pausing to acknowledge that a real choice is being made?

Just a few days ago I started to write Chad a private message about an old acquaintance of ours. I was set to describe all of the ways that this person was annoying me on Facebook. The message was completely devoid of any kind of grace or kindness, and looked nothing at all like Jesus. Just before I made the conscious decision to hit send, the Holy Spirit miraculously opened my eyes to the fact that I had accidentally written this message to the person I was talking about. I quickly deleted the whole thing and walked away from my computer, knowing that I had just been given a precious gift of mercy that I didn’t deserve. I was horrified at the thought of this person reading what I had written. Yet, I was perfectly fine with God seeing it and with my husband seeing it, even though I knew it would likely hurt my husband spiritually and grieve my God.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen my wicked heart more clearly than in that moment.

We all make choices every day. Are we giving into temptation, or are we fighting, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to live a life that pleases God? Because, even though I was humiliated at the thought of this old friend of mine reading what I wrote about her, how can I forget that one day everything I’ve done will be made known? How can I ever feel proud of my goodness when I know how often that I very clearly choose to turn from God’s way and dive right into sin?

I’m so grateful that we have a God who can sympathize. We have a Savior who knows what temptation is like, even though He always made the right choice.  His blood was spilled for our harmless sins. But, no big deal, right?

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