“Here ya go.” I handed the package of hot food to the hotel receptionist where we were staying. The delicious fragrance gave the contents of hot buffalo Brussels sprouts away without her having to look.
Before we look at how to stop negative self-talk, let me describe my battle with it.
Years ago, a knowledgeable guide delighted our group of moms and kids on a fieldtrip to a local historical site. But I sensed her emptiness and wanted to talk to her about the Lord. My conversation didn’t go as I’d hoped.
Accusations pelted me as I drove away. Why did you say that? You really botched an opportunity. You’re a poor excuse for a Christian.
Several years ago, circumstances beyond my control threw me into a dilemma. The person connected with me had very strong feelings on moving ahead. But I felt no peace taking the path they pursued. Time was ticking, and I had to give my decision. I knew what I wanted. But every time I thought about telling them, “no,” doubt assailed me. You’re wimping out. If you had faith you’d say yes.
At the time, I thought doubt was a nebulous feeling that sprang from uncertainty. But that experience showed me doubts sometimes have a diabolical side. As soon as I recognized the accusatory tone of my doubts, I was able to discern my Lord’s voice. I gave my no with perfect peace—even though I received push-back from my partner.
Paralyzing indecision may spring from the enemy’s taunts. Just like the devil gave King David the idea to take a census of Israel (1 Chronicles 21:1-3) and Ananias and Sapphira the idea to lie about a gift they gave to the church (Acts 5:3-5), he also plants thoughts in our minds.Continue Reading
I grew up in the deep South. As a youngster, I remember boarding a city bus and heading for the long back seat that stretched across the aisle. Mama caught my arm as she dropped into the front side seat and told me to sit. Her abruptness startled me. I looked back and noticed only dark-skinned faces in the back half of the bus and white ones in the front.
“Why can’t we sit there?” I said. She signaled to be quiet.
Another time I ran to a water fountain as we exited the public library. Mama stopped me again. “Debbie, use that fountain,” she pointed to another one.
“This one’s closer,” I balked.
She told me not to argue. I looked back at the dark-skinned children near the forbidden fountain.Continue Reading