“It's all right to sit on your pity pot every now and again. Just be sure to flush when you are finished.”
― Debbie Macomber, Mrs. Miracle
― Debbie Macomber, Mrs. Miracle
Many years ago, the man in my life suggested I may be suffering from PMS. He even kept a chart on me, measuring my mood and noting my cycle. It took him 6 months to get me to look at it honestly. I felt PMS was a woman's excuse to be what I needed no excuse to be. PMS also stands for Pity My Self. It's real, but I have learned how to care for myself to avoid the real ugly stuff. Okay, when I do decide to take care of myself. To not eat sweets when your body is screaming for them is a little difficult for me, but it really helps.
This same man asked me a question during a serious conversation on the subject, at the right time, I may add. He asked what I needed when I was flipping out. I thought about it for a long time and decided I needed a hug. His eyebrows went up so high they disappeared and his mouth fell open. "Is there something else I can do?" When I couldn't think of anything, he said he didn't think I would be receptive to a hug once I crossed the line he called time to Practice My Shooting.
With the aid of hormones, PMS is the biggest pity party a person can have. I can say this because I am a true PMSer. I have yet to find anyone who is brave enough to hug me during one of the small windows of time allowed by my hormones, somewhere between loading the gun and breaking down in tears. But, I truly believe that is what I want. If the wrong person were to try to hug me, or the right person at the wrong time, there could be jail time involved and the pity would shift.
A friend of mine wrote recently that she has been spending time on her "pity pot" and I informed her I was in the next stall. As I thought about it, I realized the thought of climbing up in the arms of Jesus and telling Him my woes sounded pretty good, but then after reading a few quotes on pity I realized, the arms I am in when I am feeling sorry for myself do not belong to Jesus. The enemy is right there, hugging me and agreeing with me on just how bad everything is and how I have every right to feel sorry for myself. After he has been whispering the comforting words for a while and I'm to the point of nodding my head in agreement, he whispers, "And poor you, your God won't even help you. He's just not big enough."
“Satan exploits pain by making it the central focus of the man’s (or woman’s) thoughts and attitudes.”
― Erwin W. Lutzer, When You've Been Wronged: Moving From Bitterness to Forgiveness
― Erwin W. Lutzer, When You've Been Wronged: Moving From Bitterness to Forgiveness
Oops, how did that happen? I lower my head and shuffle back to God's side. It's like when you are dating someone and you realize he is your last three boyfriends with a different name and face. Satan does that. Changes his face, his tone, and approach, but he's the same guy. He only has so many lies in his bag of tricks. He keeps using them over and over because they work.
The way I see it, when we are born we are given a bucket of love. Children love with no inhibition. The enemy wants to empty that bucket, because the greatest commandments are to love the Lord and to love your neighbor as yourself. The enemy knows you and he knows your ability to do God's will and this determines the amount of trouble he will throw at you to empty your bucket.
In our childhood and even beyond he comes against us, using abuse, abandonment, tragedy, trauma and anything he can use to drain that bucket. Whatever we didn't get in those years is what we want. If we didn't get affection our flesh screams for it. If we didn't get praise or flesh screams for approval. If we didn't get acknowledgement of our pain, we grow up wanting it. That little kid stills lives in us constantly wanting.
We learn to survive, we learn to fight the big battles. We survive with blocking, addiction anger, or whatever it takes. Then when we are emotionally drained, tired and at our weakest, he tempts us with what our flesh has always wanted. Our bucket is empty and we have nothing left to fight the temptation. We give in, then he hits us with shame. He tells us God doesn't care. We notice the big things in front of us as attacks. We have fought against his obvious attacks for years, but then he sneaks in with temptation.
Sexual addiction is used to fight loneliness, alcohol is used to comfort our hurt, self pity is the hug we have always wanted from someone else, but these are false comforts brought to you by the enemy. Our bucket is still empty.
Pain is a warning that your body needs attention. It tells us something is wrong. Remove your hand from the fire, feed the stomach, or get some rest are responses to pain. Pain of the heart is a sign of an empty bucket. Some friends can fill our buckets, but some of us have a hard time allowing them to do this. Sometimes they drain what little bit we have left. There is only one who can truly fill it to overflow. Forget what ever is happening, it's a distraction from the enemy. The bills, the kids, the job, whatever it is the enemy is using it to distract you from getting your bucket filled.
The enemy only has three weapons to use against us.
1. Lust of the flesh
2. Lust of the eye
3. Pride of life
The way I see it, when we are born we are given a bucket of love. Children love with no inhibition. The enemy wants to empty that bucket, because the greatest commandments are to love the Lord and to love your neighbor as yourself. The enemy knows you and he knows your ability to do God's will and this determines the amount of trouble he will throw at you to empty your bucket.
In our childhood and even beyond he comes against us, using abuse, abandonment, tragedy, trauma and anything he can use to drain that bucket. Whatever we didn't get in those years is what we want. If we didn't get affection our flesh screams for it. If we didn't get praise or flesh screams for approval. If we didn't get acknowledgement of our pain, we grow up wanting it. That little kid stills lives in us constantly wanting.
We learn to survive, we learn to fight the big battles. We survive with blocking, addiction anger, or whatever it takes. Then when we are emotionally drained, tired and at our weakest, he tempts us with what our flesh has always wanted. Our bucket is empty and we have nothing left to fight the temptation. We give in, then he hits us with shame. He tells us God doesn't care. We notice the big things in front of us as attacks. We have fought against his obvious attacks for years, but then he sneaks in with temptation.
Sexual addiction is used to fight loneliness, alcohol is used to comfort our hurt, self pity is the hug we have always wanted from someone else, but these are false comforts brought to you by the enemy. Our bucket is still empty.
Pain is a warning that your body needs attention. It tells us something is wrong. Remove your hand from the fire, feed the stomach, or get some rest are responses to pain. Pain of the heart is a sign of an empty bucket. Some friends can fill our buckets, but some of us have a hard time allowing them to do this. Sometimes they drain what little bit we have left. There is only one who can truly fill it to overflow. Forget what ever is happening, it's a distraction from the enemy. The bills, the kids, the job, whatever it is the enemy is using it to distract you from getting your bucket filled.
The enemy only has three weapons to use against us.
1. Lust of the flesh
2. Lust of the eye
3. Pride of life
He only changes the lies that tempt us. After Jesus was tempted by Satan, the angels came to fill His bucket. Forget the issues, because they are nothing to God that a snap of His finger won't cure. Just sit before Him and let Him fill your bucket. Let Him love you. When your bucket is full, there is no fire that can't be put out. I don't know if it's right to thank the enemy, but when he causes pain, fear, or temptation, think of it as a warning light and stop to fill your love tank.
“The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays.”
― Søren Kierkegaard
― Søren Kierkegaard
No comments:
Post a Comment