Flesh

I just sat down here to write out the time requirements of a so-called "perfect" day.  I would like an hour to write, an hour for devotions, a couple hours with my husband… and before I could get very far into the list I was struck by the pure selfishness of what I was doing, not to mention ungodliness.  Sure, time management is important, but for me I think it has become a way of defying God's will for my life, struggling over and over to make things fit in a way they just aren't meant to be.  Realizing that I don't have time for certain things at this point has been hard, and my selfishness is astounding.  But maybe I would be better off if I just let go of my agenda and left each day open to whatever God brings, determined to work with all diligence using whatever hours He does choose to give me.

It is easy enough to recognize the providential hand when it comes in the form of calls to the mission field or opportunities to help those in distress here in America.  When Danny got the news that his Aunt's house was in need of a total remodel after a bad bout of renters, there was little question that he should give as much of his time as possible to that endeavor (though God knows my heart was not in it as it should have been). But what about those little daily inconveniences- the dog getting fleas, Katara spitting up all over the clean outfit I just put on, or a friend calling to chat for an hour that I would rather spend writing- do I recognize the Divine hand in these things too?  Perhaps somewhere deep down I know this, but my reaction to these things is often all too knee-jerk, too focused on the temporal. 

Romans 8:7 says: "For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot."

Have I become set on the flesh?  It used to be much easier to think of leaving all that I held dear for God- I guess there just didn't used to be all that much that I held dear.  I wasn't super attached to my family before I was married, I hated my job, and didn't have all that many friends.  The mission field actually sounded attractive because it would be something meaningful, even if not exactly glamorous.  But now when I think of leaving this cozy apartment with our matching black furniture and vaulted ceilings in exchange for a hut somewhere in Africa, my courage completely fails me.  

In other words, I've become comfortable.  In God's providence Danny and I have been financially secure, our marriage has been sun-kissed from the beginning, and now we have a beautiful daughter whom we would like to give the world- trips to Disney land, a beautiful rambling house in the country, and a stellar college education.  I used to scorn the American dream, but now I find myself spending hours daydreaming about home decor and summer vacations. I know it's not a bad thing to be financially secure and to use some of that money to enjoy the comforts of life, but not knowing how to live without it is quite a different matter.  Self-denial is becoming harder and harder, even while I'm supposed to be growing older and more sanctified with each year.

A mind set on the flesh is also one which cannot deny the comforts of the flesh, like that oh-so-tempting second cookie or a series of small snacks in the afternoon instead of the sensible granola bar. Even when my daughter's health depends on it, I've found it so difficult to fill my body with good things, which is just so unreasonable.  This body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and I MUST take care of it.  

Worst of all, a mind set on the flesh sees God only as very far off.  This world and everything in it- from leather couches to marriage it's self- WILL pass away. There is a spiritual dimension to reality which should be even more potent and real to me than the temporal, but it's not.  Instead, I find that when I come to God He seems unreal, the concept of His word unrealistic and impossible to believe. When I reason through these things my mind still agrees to all the tenants of Christianity, but my heart does not belong to my Savior the way it once did.  What happened to the days when I felt His presence all day long, when my mind slipped to prayer as naturally as it now runs to numbers and schedules and calories. What a waste of energy it has all been, too, for it hasn't gotten me anywhere except more frustrated when things don't go my way.

So here is my resolution for this day, and every day following it: to "walk by the spirit," that I may not "gratify the desires of the flesh."  (Galatians 5:19)  For me, this means to stop obsessing over how I want things to go, to stop pouring over schedules and budgets and diet plans and start living these things minute by minute, as God provides the time and opportunity.  To give over each and every day- each moment- to Him, no matter what He may choose to do with it.  To spend as much time in prayer as possible, knowing that God's blessing on all my endeavors is more valuable than any amount of planning and preparation.  To deny myself as often as possible, if it's at the shopping mall, in the kitchen, or when the phone rings- so that I may learn to "die daily." (1 Corinthians 15:31).  To make a conscious choice to "Set my mind on the things above, and not on the things that are on the earth."  (Colossians 3:2) 

Because it in all of my meticulous planning and pinching and starting over again, I have yet to achieve either peace or control or satisfaction with myself.  I still go to bed distressed over my own laziness and gluttony and selfishness day after day after day.  I can't do this on my own, I have sufficiently proven that now.  Time to let it all go, give it to God, and walk with my eyes up on Him instead of down at the path at my feet.