It's been a morning of hard lessons. Lessons on how we don't hit to get our way. Lessons on how to end an argument by simply walking away. Lessons on grace and the forgiveness that Jesus supplies.
And, for me, lessons on taming my tongue and giving them the gentleness that they need - the gentleness I don't feel in the midst of a selfish scream-fest.
Enduring through trials, as mentioned in the Scriptures, doesn't just have to do with the world out there.
Those trials (especially) exist behind the walls of my own house. Between myself and my own children. Within my own heart.
I need to equip myself with the armour of God, not only when I head out past the realm of what I (quite incorrectly, I'm afraid) believe I can control, but also simply to withstand the constant attacks of my own sinful nature.
It is a never-ending assault, dear friends, and one we will never be freed of this side of heaven.
I need to stop fighting this battle behind closed doors, and start showing my weaknesses to those I love, especially my children, so they can better understand God's grace and his sanctification.
No one is perfect, and more-so, no one can ever be perfect. The more I pretend to be so in front of my children, the harder it gets to reign in the dark things about myself that I long to hide. The more they will falsely believe that perfection is somehow attainable. The more the Gospel becomes tainted and, really, ceases to be the Gospel at all.
Let them know me as Andrea Sawatzky, a sinner saved by grace. Let them know Him as the God in whom righteousness is found and grace abounds.
