We fight in trenches, all of us. Everyone I know has an issue/s that are ongoing and the real testing of our faith comes into play. This morning I was drifting through my morning, nursing this cold that won't seem to end. The phone rang and before I know, mortars and gunshots are zinging past me. I am yelling "mental medic! mental medic!" and am barely getting these wounds tended to, the phone rings again, another assault, though not as personal.
I'm a reactor....big-time. So I am reeling a bit from first call, wailing and gnashing of teeth, longing for Renaissance Man to tell me it will be alright, whether he really believes it or not, and me totally believing it, because he said it, and he never lies to me. ♥ Then the next call and I'm more in a defensive mode, ready to tangle. I hear this attitude in my tone and definitely feel the hand of the Lord on my shoulder and change my tone.
These are my trenches today. Trying to forgive one beloved, one that I have such love for, saying words that wound and pierce. Remembering that the One I love most was also wounded and pierced, finding my strength in Him, leaning hard into Him.
Does it matter how I react? I'm alone here, just my poor pup to hear my laments. But He hears, He sees motives and hearts and helps me to see as well. This heart that called is in pain, such pain. They are not justified in their complaints, but don't they deserve someone who, while not taking on a door mat role, is there for them, no matter what? And second call, aren't I still Christ to the world? So I've come around, licked my wounds and semi-recovered.