Showing posts with label Romans 7. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romans 7. Show all posts

May 5, 2018


Make a Different Choice

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.
– Romans 7:16-17

He was in the pasture, where he wasn’t supposed to be. I called him back. He looked at me. He looked at the gate I gestured toward. And then he looked at the branch area nestled beside the pond. My youngest dog had a decision to make. He knew what he should do. He knew that returning to the yard would make him obedient and earn him praise. He just couldn’t seem to help himself. He raced into the wooded area.

Can anyone relate? We know we shouldn’t be eating that ice cream. We need to lose weight, not pack on the pounds. But, well, it has been a rough day and we deserve a treat. Right?

Or maybe we know that the best course of action is to keep a firm hold on our tongue. We want to say something. We really, really do. But God tells us to be good to our enemies, the people who would harm us. We are to trust God to handle it. You consider how good the words would feel spewing from your mouth. A battle wages inside. Those words come out even though you know that isn’t what God wanted. The consequences will last far longer that the moment of satisfaction you felt as you spoke the words.

Do you need any other examples? Think back on your day. I doubt anyone gets through a day without having a battle of some sort over what we should do verses what we want to do. Sometimes the “should” wins out. And sometimes it doesn’t.

We all know about our sin nature. Some of us realize that spiritual warfare is all around us. We know. We should be prepared. We should expect it and pray without ceasing until we’re strong enough to withstand the temptation to make a wrong choice. Then we do it anyway.

Sometimes it’s something small. We tell ourselves that anyway. Who cares if we buy one more pair of shoes that we really don’t need? We’ll cut back on something else so we can afford it. Except small choices with seemingly little consequences tend to add up. How long before we can’t pay our tithe or our bills?

Maybe your sin has you working 80 hours a week, neglecting the relationship you need with your family, so that you can provide them with all the things you believe they “need.” Maybe your sin is wasting time in front of a television, telling yourself you did your part for God earlier in your life. Now you’re retired. Let someone else serve. Or maybe your sin is gossip in the form of prayer requests. Do you really need to know the sordid details in order to lift someone up in prayer? Of course not. But you just can’t seem to help yourself.

I could go on and on. Each day is filled with choices. We mean well. We do. We tell ourselves we’ll do better next time. But it’s just so hard to resist the temptation to sin.

My youngest dog can’t seem to help himself either. The other night I walked into the room to find the stuffing from his sister’s bed scattered all around. He lay in the middle of it all, quiet and content. Until he saw me. Then he noticed what anyone could clearly see. He’d once again done something he knew he shouldn’t have done.

It was too late to undo it. He crept over to me and hung his head low. He didn’t even try to deny his guilt. Do you do that with God? Do you feel His conviction? Do you refuse to change your behavior? We are all guilty. The difference comes when we admit our guilt and change our course. That is true repentance.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Step Off The Treadmill

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. -- Romans 7:15

Let’s have a show of hands out there: How many of you have vowed not to do something and then ended up doing it anyway? And how many of you have been determined to do something and then let it slide again and again?

Yeah. That’s what I thought. All of us have done both at one time or another. The Apostle Paul really understood what it’s like to want to be good and yet to sometimes still be controlled by that sin nature that lives within all of us.

For example, I know that pain causes me to lash out in anger. I try to let it go. I tell myself that it’s okay, it doesn’t matter. And then I get angry for no reason and I know it does matter and I am not okay. It took me years to understand that about myself.

I still haven’t mastered that self-control that is one of the fruits of the Spirit. I want to. I do. I don’t want to be angry anymore. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I just want it to all go away. But I don’t have a magic wand and I can’t control what goes on around me.

Pastor Rob calls us to face our pain and deal with those deeper issues that cause frustration. I want to. I do. But somehow I don’t know if I could survive all that pent-up emotion that lies deep inside me.

Years ago I watched a friend grow further and further out of control. He scheduled virtually every moment of every day. Because he couldn’t face the pain of his mother’s rejection. He was unhappy with his life and wanted to control every aspect of every person’s life around him. He wouldn’t slow down because then he’d be forced to face his unhappiness. Our friendship ended when I refused to be his life treadmill partner.

I, on the other hand, just want a day off. I say that with a laugh but, honestly, I’m not sure I’d even know what to do with such a day anymore. I am always tired. Always worn out. Always desperate for a few moments to call my own.

Pastor Rob had something to say about that too: If you’re always tired and worn out, ask yourself what pain you’re running from.

Okay. That hit home. Because I am running, desperately, from hurts I’d rather not face and a future too uncertain to embrace. No wonder I’m exhausted. Worry causes exhaustion. Frustration causes exhaustion. Anger causes exhaustion.

I want a different life. I don’t want to be tired anymore. I don’t want to be unhappy anymore. I don’t want to run away from who I am or deny the gifts God has given to me. And yet the treadmill remains, safely where it’s always been. I do the things that make me unhappy rather than the things I ought to do instead. I know better but I do them anyway.