Irritated

I am irritated.  Not in the someone-just-cut-me-off-on-the-highway or the credit-card-bill-came-in-higher-than-I-expected way, but systemically.  All around bothered that sometimes flares up into really pissed off. It is born of many things:

  • discord among teammates at the office
  • financial obligations
  • untamable congestion
  • very little sleep
  • holiday seasonal ADD among our little guys
  • daughter's college application process
  • lack of intimacy with my wife

I am easy target for the prowling lion.  He has devoured me.

Just when I've seemed to pick myself back up, a jarring uppercut sends me back to the canvas.  I head to the corner for momentary relief...spit the blood of my wounds into the bucket and get my mouth cleared with fresh and clean living water.  But the bell tolls once again and I stumble back into the arena.

We are pugilist all, heading into battle on regular interval equipped only with 16 ounce gloves and oversized shorts.  Despite an arsenal of battle guard and weapons at our disposal...belt, breastplate, helmet, sword, etal...we often face our enemy armed only with our nakedness and shame.

To not claim our true citizenship or walk in the inspired identity and strength He provides, is to shroud the full weight of His glory.

  • It is the joke without the punch line.
  • It is the cake without the icing.
  • It is a paint-by-the-numbers without any paint.
  • It is the chocolate cookies without the cream filling.

My four year old has it figured out...she eats the cream filling and throws away the cookies on her Oreos.  She's a purist.  Why mess with the bittersweet bookends, when you can just dwell in the sweet creamy goodness of the middle?  She gets right to the point.

I have lived too much of my journey in simply the "knowledge of" and not the "transformation by"  type of Christianity.  The proverbial cookies without the cream filling.  I have now tasted too much of the full weight of His healing and transformational ministry to live in an irritated state too long.  Despite all that, I am somehow surprised again at how subtly and then comprehensively the darkness crowds out the light.  (Oh yeah, I can get pissed off by that as well.)

Rescue me from myself, Father.  Let me walk in the fullness of your glorious restoration and healing.  Awaken me each day to arm myself with the full complement of Your armament.  Place me atop the motte, fortify my battlement with steep parapets, and stand watch at my castle gates.  Hold me close at the castle keep.

I guess my four-year old, Elizabeth, only has it half right.  It is both the "knowledge of" and the "transformation by" our great story that is the right recipe.  It is chocolate cookie and the creamy filling.  We need both.  May we not only walk in confirmation of our eternal destination, but the strength and authority of His sacrifice.  May we not be such easy targets, or so easily irritated.