On being robbed.

Violated.

Uneasy.

Sick to the stomach.

Anxious.

Nervous.

I’ve never been robbed, but have been told that these are the feelings one feels after such an event.

Not a good mix of feelings at all.

While I’ve never actually been robbed, just lately I’ve been realizing, very clearly, that my days are robbed from me.

And I’m the one who is leaving the door wide open to my intruders.

My front door has been wide open – and I’ve been robbed of peace.  Robbed of joy.  Robbed of hope.

And I kinda reckon, I’m not the only one who has been welcoming intruders.

Your intruders may have a different root cause, or motivation than mine.  But they are real enough.  They come in through the front door, and not only do they take a wander through your jewelry box, they have the nerve to help themselves to a drink from the fridge, sit down on the sofa and make themselves well and truly at home.  They are there to stay. Until they have eaten you out of house and home, taken all your treasures, and left you completely at your whit’s end.

Well I’m saying enough.

No more.

No more worry eating at me.

No more doubt cracking through my peace.

No more.

Enough.

First I’ve needed to recognize what it is that has been intruding my home, my heart.  One of those things for me, is worry over my third son and his speech delay.  If you’re a Mother of a child who doesn’t fit within the range of ‘normal’ you’ll get this.  You’ll get this.  It hurts.  It is hard.  For me, something happens to my heart whenever I hear of a friend’s child telling them something cute, and all I want is a simple sentence from my own cherub.  So I think of what he doesn’t say, and I dwell on how far he has to come, to be considered ‘normal’.  And then I doubt my own parenting skills, and I play the stupid comparison game and so on.

It is a vicious cycle and a slippery slope down, down to basically being down in the dumps.

I forget who is ultimately in control.

I forget the progress already made.

I forget how uniquely different and wonderfully made my own child is.

I forget to notice the giftings he has.

I choose to look at what he’s not – instead of looking at who he is…..all because that intruder of worry, that intruder of self-doubt, has taken up residence in my home.

So how do I stop the intruder from coming in?  I simply need to lock that front door. By golly that intruder may knock, but no way can that intruder enter.

We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ – 2 Corinthians 10: 5

You see I know what God says about fear.  He says not to.  Just don’t.  Many, many, many times in the bible.  And worry is driven by fear, and I don’t want either of them in my house.  And if I’m worrying, then I not obeying Christ, simple as that.  And not obeying is sinning.  Simple as that.  So to obey Christ, I need to take every thought captive.

By taking every thought captive, I’m not letting it in the front door.

By taking every thought captive, I’m not letting the negativity take root, and take possession of my mind.

By taking every thought captive, I’m choosing to believe that God is in control and his ways are not our ways,

So while your intruder will most likely have a different name to mine, is the nasty perp getting past your front door?

Do you keep leaving your door open a little?  Cos once that big toe is in the door, the intruder muscles its way in…it doesn’t need much convincing.

How about you join me, as I learn to deadbolt my front door.  As I say to fear, doubt and worry ‘Not my house, not my heart.  Not today and not any day’.

Taking every thought captive. That’s my best defense against intruders.

deadbolt

 

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6 thoughts on “On being robbed.

  1. Sooo true, this reminds me of a book called Loving God with All of Your Mind. by Elizabeth George. This is the verse that comes to mind.. “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” Phil 4:8.

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