“O LORD my God, I called to you for help and you healed me.” (Psalm 30:2 NIV)
“Yet I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my help and my deliverer; O my God, do not delay.” (Psalm 40:17 NIV)
Sarah ran into the kitchen of her parents’ cabin, shrieking. We were staying there for the weekend and seconds before had escaped a cockroach.
She stood, mouth agape and finger limply pointing to the floor. Of course, we were expecting a beetle army to pour from the kitchen at this point.
“Dishwasher!” Sarah managed.
I rose from my chair, going where she indicated. The shiny dishwasher we turned on earlier was spitting foam and water like a volcano and overflowing on the floor. A horrendous stench arose from the flood waters as I joined Sarah’s moans. We rallied, collecting paper towels to sop up the muck now combining with the crumbs already on the floor.
The dirty dishes in the dishwasher had been sitting several weeks and now smelled awful. We ran the machine on a different cycle and then once more on a rinse setting. But the water gushed out with every attempt.
Finally, we decided to inform Sarah’s parents so they could fix the issue.
I realized later (after we hand washed the dishwasher’s contents) that I’m much like that dishwasher. Often I look shiny and cleaned-up on the outside, but on the inside I still hold tons of icky junk that causes me to function improperly.
My natural inclination, of course, is to try to fix the problem myself, from the inside. But if my insides aren’t working, the problem can’t be solved. I need outside help to really heal me.
God is the only one outside us that can truly clean up our dirty dishes. Bring your hurt to him. He’ll heal you and you’ll overflow again—only this time with joy and life, not gross dishwater.
Melissa Weaver is a 21-year-old English major at North Greenville University where she is editor of the school’s literary magazine The Mountain Laurel. She minors in French (that’s the rumor, anyway) and enjoys bookstore clearance sales, adding as many classic novels as possible to her bookshelves. A native of Charleston, SC, she loves music (especially British), writing poetry, trying on funny hats, drawing with sidewalk chalk, and hitting the beach during the summers home.
“Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name.” (Psalm 86:11 KJV) “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32 NIV)
I was walking for therapy after a stressful day—only today, the therapy backfired.
Three or four “Debbie downers” in a row floated from my iPod; a maniacal little device. They were fantastic songs, but were hitting below the belt.
My musical world plunged into a melancholy state and my emotions went haywire. I base lots of decisions on my momentary feelings. Some choices turn out okay; some I regret.
When I allow my emotions to be manipulated, I end up feeling tossed around like a hurricane. In a world of emotional stimulation, how can I possibly avoid the stupid decisions?
The answer is truth. And don’t get me wrong: music, movies, and books can all contain things that are true. Emotions aren’t bad either, but they don’t consistently lead us to truth. And when I say “truth,” I mean the one with the capital “T.”
God’s Truth in his Bible is solid. It’s what He gave us to hold onto when our emotions are telling us to feel five different things at once. His Word never changes, though our thoughts may change.
Isn’t it reassuring to know that we have this source of ultimate Truth when life is unsure? Fill your head—and especially your heart—with real things, true things. Be purposeful about it, so you can fight with your Truth if you need to.
Our emotions can change with what we’re listening to at the moment. I’ve made some bad decisions based on music-initiated emotions. But I’ve learned that when I’m feeling a little crazy, I can go to God’s Word for reality. His Truth has always steers me straight. When my iPod attacks again, this time I’ll be prepared.
Melissa Weaver is a 21-year-old English major at North Greenville University where she is editor of the school’s literary magazine The Mountain Laurel. She minors in French (that’s the rumor, anyway) and enjoys bookstore clearance sales, adding as many classic novels as possible to her bookshelves. A native of Charleston, SC, she loves music (especially British), writing poetry, trying on funny hats, drawing with sidewalk chalk, and hitting the beach during the summers home. (read more…)