When the Lie Seems Real

It began from the moment I awoke.

It’s not fair. Why can’t I do that? So and so’s not helping. I always have to do that myself.

One would have thought that the children had gotten an early start on the day’s sibling rivalry. But the broken lyrics were my own, a sad start to a Thursday morning song.

I stepped into my day with an unwelcomed restlessness in my heart.

I have only recently become acquainted with restlessness, a “holy dissatisfaction” that creates a longing and a hunger for the things of Christ. It stirs me to move out of the place of selfish ambition and to pursue intimacy with the Lover of my soul.

This was not that kind of that kind of dissatisfaction.

This was agitation, an internal riot. Churning. Roiling. Pointing out how overworked and underappreciated I am. I could feel the little roots of bitterness latching their weedy grip onto my heart. I am no gardener but I know this: Weeds are harder to pull the bigger they get. And yet I let them grow, my frustrations feeding their frenzy, my good judgment thrown off for a little self-justice. And why not?

Nathan peacefully (and obliviously) started and finished his prayer time while Adara climbed loops over my head and into my lap as I tried to answer my bible study questions. The children came behind all my cleaning efforts with train tracks and pots and pans and baby dolls and spilt milk and grains of rice strewn like confetti. Adara played her game called “Steal Whatever Brother Has and Run Away and If I Get Caught, Throw It.” Caleb sang his “I’m Gonna Stand on the Highest Thing in the House and Shout At the Top of My Lungs” songs.

I was losing it.

Couldn’t Nathan see my struggle? Why couldn’t he just do whatever so obviously needed to be done with out me having to ask? On it went, each query building on the other, breeding doubt. Giving way to mistrust.

I was unappreciated for my domestic efforts, and quite frankly held back in living out my “full potential.”

Honestly, God, I could be put to much better use than what You have me doing.

As I stood at the sink scouring hardened rice and starch from a pot I unconsciously stewed in my own self-pity, letting thoughts flow freely, a wash of emotion to the great neglect and disservice that I had suffered over the course of the day. I had convinced myself that my husband was of little help to me. Every time I thought it, it seemed more true. My husband is lazy.

I continued scrubbing, frustrated that I was home tending to children, left in what Nathan described as “a spirit of chaos” before he left. And where was he? Bible study. He practically had something happening every night this week. And everything he did all day long was in preparation for those things. All he does is work. My husband is a workaholic.

What?

My spirit, stifled from my cancerous thoughts, suddenly stirred.

That didn’t make any sense. How could I accuse Nathan of not doing anything only to charge him with doing too much? Something wasn’t right here. I backtracked, tracing my line of thoughts throughout the day.

Not one was uplifting.

Not one was life giving.

I realized that I had not taken any of my thoughts captive. I had not asked for the mind of Christ. Instead, I chose not to align my thinking with the Word of God. I had simply let my mind go wherever it wanted and oh how it had wandered! Rather than recognizing and renouncing those thoughts that instigated and brought division, I had allowed them to meld with my discontent until what I knew in my heart to be false appeared, in whatever twisted capacity, to be true.

Somewhere along the way I had believed a lie, giving birth to many.

Lies about my husband. Lies about my children. Lies about myself. Lies about God.

I knew God had invited me to walk the road of servanthood. I knew God had called me to a domestic ministry. He reassuringly spoke to my spirit that there was nothing greater that I could do than what He called me to do. And here I was, all day long, believing the lie that I was meant for something better than what God had planned for me. The tyrant, Pride, was suddenly unmasked and the great lie lost its power.

Oh, God, forgive me for my pride and for forgetting Your promises! Holy Spirit, help me to recognize lies masquerading as truth. Teach me the humility of my Jesus though His example of meekness in the ministry of the cross. Help me to stay grounded in the truth of Your Word. Jesus, You ARE Truth. Thank You for Your unwavering faithfulness, oh Lord, and for grace that takes me back, again and again. Oh how I love You!

“For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ…” 2 Corinthians 10:4-6