Strength for Silence

With so many topics roaming the halls of my mind, it’s difficult to form a complete thought.  While I want to expose the inner workings of my soul, I find myself waiting for permission to hit the “enter” key. 

For now, I simply wait for the right words in the right order to form before me. 

In its rarest form, my actions are anything but Heaven-bound.  With humanity composing my physical body, I cling to the Holy Spirit and pray for His direction.  My humanity is constantly playing tug-of-war with what I know to be true.

Here is my dilemma.  In my raw and human form, my flesh desires to lash out.  I hear, I see, I judge.  Yet, judgment is not mine to give.  My flesh and my spirit are at war.  For I know the good I ought to do, but I do not do it.  I know the bad I ought not to do and yet, here I am, watching my hands type.  Then, conviction washes over me and the erase key is firmly pressed.

Am I alone here?  I must find myself in this situation on a daily basis.  My words are not my own.  They belong to the Father.  And yet, my flesh craves to be heard, to be the voice of reason and conviction. 

Be still my fleshly humanity, the Spirit is in control.  To say it in its most simple form, my body and spirit are constantly warring for control.  Will I publicly blast my strong opinion or will the Holy Spirit’s peace and poise wash over me? 

My heart is constantly conflicted.  The war never eases.  Yet as of late, the Lord is bringing about breakthrough.  I believe it and claim it in my life, in my marriage, and in the church.  Friends, the war is not easy.  But the testing develops perseverance.  My humanity is a lover of control, a lover of order and justice.  But humanity is not fair or just. 

And in that realization, I surrender my spirit to God—God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. 

Oh, all-consuming fire, come baptize us.

In the battle of the flesh and spirit—and friends, the two are so real and so very active—remember that we, as Christians, are not to conform to the ways of the world.  Because I want to live a life above reproach, because I know that all things are permissible, but not all are beneficial, because I know the good I ought to do, I clothe myself in God’s armor and fight to develop perseverance.

It’s not easy, it’s excruciating, and yet, it’s my request—to be broken and molded into who God has me to be, to go through growth and find a new depth in my relationship with Christ.

No, the promise is not that the road will be easy, that the burden will be light.  The promise is much greater.  And so I call upon the name of the Lord, I bring my humanity, my filthy rags, to Him, I surrender, and I walk away free, cleansed, and ready to face tomorrow.