Let’s Get Real, the Flesh Rises
Boy does it! I’ve been thinking a lot about my fleshly ways. You know… trying to justify it. One such occasion is my frequent trips to our little town of Grantsville, West Virginia for which I always seem to be in a hurry. And somebody else doesn’t. On multiple occasions over the past few weeks I’ve been behind a Sunday driver in the middle of the week. Our speed limit is 55 mph. Although people unfamiliar with West Virginia roads would say that is likely too fast! And obviously some of our locals who are content at driving 40 mph. And I truthfully have a freeway brain. I would like to go 70 mph. I have places to be!
Let’s get real. Nowhere that couldn’t wait a few minutes. But the problem with my freeway brain is; our West Virginia roads have very few passing zones. So if you’re behind a Sunday Driver on a Friday. It really does feel like it may be Sunday before you get to town, which sometimes causes my flesh to kick into a higher gear. One such occasion happened last week.
I had followed this guy until my head was about to explode. At least a couple of miles. But the passing zone was coming up and I was praying, (I’m godly you know?) Lord please let the zone be clear. As I come around the turn I think it’s okay, until I see a mail lady stopped half in the passing lane and half out, delivering mail. She’s in the middle of the zone! so now I have to wait again.
I wait and as soon as I’m past her I dart out into the passing lane and low and behold another truck is coming around the turn in my lane. So I gun it! And my little Kia Soul almost sounds like it’s rubber band is going to break but it’s got the power when I need it. Praise God! And then I think about the lettering on the back of my car.
And I’m not quite so impressed with my car or myself anymore. I wonder if the guy I just gunned it passed seen my decals and thought… such a godly woman. Umm. Probably not.
So yesterday I had another rising of the flesh but I managed to keep this one internal. I was invited to a new place to sing and I met some people who didn’t know me from Adam. Certainly they didn’t know I was the Jesus Chick. Two minutes into meeting them, they’re trash talking everyone around them and I’m nauseous. “Why did I come here?” I thought. And then I remembered, because my idea of saying no is “no, I wouldn’t mind.” And then I remembered why I do what I do. So people can see Jesus. And so I did just that… I changed the conversation. Woohoo! This was a win. Well partly… they still had the occasion to trash talk.
Incident number three, I was home alone scrolling social media. Which can so easily get me in trouble. After about the fiftieth social media jab by liberals about everything from abortion to the President my head was about to explode again. It’s very well my biggest pet peeve. I’m so tired of this liberal agenda and the inability to defend our rights as a nation and more importantly the agenda of Almighty God without being attacked. So I say nothing. I just don’t want the negativity on my social media pages.
I delete who I must (anyone who speaks filth) and I scroll past who I can (those who I hope will see my post and want Jesus.)
So this morning when I read 2 Peter 2:9-10. I praised God that He delivers people like me. And that He forgives people like me.
Peter spoke of Lot a few verses before when he said, “And delivered Lot, vexed with the filthy conversation of the wicked. (For that righteous man dwelling among them, in seeing and hearing, vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlawful deeds;” ~verses 7-8
Oh be careful little eyes what you see… you probably know the song.
The word of God was a reminder for me that I need to sing that song to myself. I need to watch what I do for certain. I need to shut some people out… yes indeed! And I need to be grateful that God will deliver my soul some day from this wicked, wicked world. And then the judgement.
But until then. Jesus.