Deceiver of Self

It is easy to believe that someone else is the deceiver, after all when we think about "the deceiver" we immediately see the serpent slithering towards Eve with a mouth full of lies. What we may not see is the deceiver that is more dangerous. What is so dangerous that it could make us believe a lie even after we have heard the truth? The greatest deceiver, the most subtle and unassuming of enemies; self. It is she who pulls me back into bed in the morning when my spirit desires time with God. It is she who insists that one funny comment or backwards remark surely couldn't hurt, and it is she who would have me believe that everything is fine even when I feel the Spirit tugging at my heart and mind.

I forget sometimes that she must die daily. Somehow in my mind once and for all is good enough. For redemption yes; the blood of Christ shed once will save for all time, but flesh must be reminded. It is the old friend who asks if you're sure you don't want to stir up some old trouble, the ex who wants to know if there isn't still a little bit of something to hold on to, the habit that insists you are too weak to overcome it.

I'd like to think that just as the word tells us, the bible is full of stories that are "warnings to us" the first of which was Eden. Are you sacrificing a blessing for a lie when you already know the truth? Are you acting as the deceiver? In all sincerity I am asking these questions because I myself need to answer them. How much of where you are is because you won't let yourself go farther?

To seeking and finding the truth,

Ina

A Fluffy Duck With Venom

I am passive aggressive. I say this as a confession, an apology, and a prayer. I recognized today that I have problems saying exactly what I mean exactly when I feel it. I liken it to a poisonous fluffy duck (go with me).

So, you're at a park and you see a fluffy duckling. You think "Oh my goodness that duck is so cute!" Unable to resist the adorable little fur ball you walk on over, reach out and pet it. Now you don't know it of course, but this really annoys the duck (you don't know this because there is no indication from the duck, it doesn't move or quack or anything). With no warning signs to deter you, you reach out and pet it again. The duck, ignoring its own impulse to snap and attempting politeness instead, turns and smiles. Again, this is deceiving because while you simply interpret the smile to mean "Aw that's really nice please continue." The duck on the other hand means it as a polite version of "Please don't do that again or I will be forced to unleash my fury."

And then it happens. Sweet kind unassuming you reaches out your hand to pet a third time and all of a sudden the fuzzy sweet creature becomes a bite-sized bit of terror. It chomps your hand with a mouth full of poison. You're shocked! You're feeling weak and confused as you slowly sink to the ground. Meanwhile the duck, realizing what its done, is quacking an apology with the same sweet eyes that drew you to it in the first place. At this point, however, a duck's apology is as much unwelcome and annoying as it is completely incoherent. The damage is already done, the poison already administered, and the trust already broken.

The moral of the story: I would rather be direct. I would rather say the first time, "Hey that really bothers me," then wound others because I wasn't brave enough to speak up. I want to learn to speak clearly or not at all, to truly learn what it means to be slow to speak. I am very sorry to all those that I have bitten. And to those who like me found venom on their tongues and in their teeth I urge you to pray with me. Pray that we will learn the importance of being honest, yes with others, but first with ourselves.

Better a little aggression than a lot of passive.

Love and healing,

Ina