Last night, I screamed at my daughter, consoled myself with a handful of M&Ms and a huge bowl of cereal (the sugary kind I hide in the pantry), and ended the night by skimming through 11 chapters of Psalms to catch up on my Bible reading plan. I went to sleep mentally drafting an apology email for one of the many deadlines I’ve missed recently and wishing desperately for a cleaning fairy to take care of the kitchen full of dirty dishes just down the hall. And did I mention that, for the millionth night in a row, I did not step on my treadmill (despite the 5K a mere two weeks away)?
Some days, I really can’t get anything right.
But these things, these little things that aren’t actually life-altering or -ending, are infinitely easier to confess and address than the more serious transgressions I face in rare moments of honest reflection. It’s easy – especially when I’m busy putting out fires and doing damage control for all those little things I mentioned – to ignore the pings of conscience and Holy Spirit, to sweep my sin under the rug, to simply avoid the truth of my soul.
It’s easier to ignore it, after all. Who likes to be reminded of her mistakes? Who is comfortable facing her failures? In the moment when we come face to face with our deepest failings, it’s tempting to look away, to move on, to pretend like that clarity never happened. Isn’t it?
To read the rest of this post, visit (in)courage. (And, by the way, I highly recommend reading through the comments over there, too. I used a music metaphor in the rest of my post, and some of the commenters over there had great insights using that same analogy. [Yes, I just used "metaphor" and "analogy" interchangeably. Don't judge me.])