I’ve got to admit, I’m not feeling it so much right now. I’m not thinking about "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable" while I’m sitting here commiserating with myself over my lousy week. It’s easier to throw a fit.
But about a page and a half before the true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable business; I’m reminded that I don’t belong here... not really. I belong here as much as a butterfly belongs in its cocoon. I should just leave my ratty old cocoon behind. It’s constricting. I can’t be all I should be while I’m all wrapped up in it.
As I’m snugly inside my comfort zone, the rational part of my self whispers, "But then all the horrid weeks in my life are pointless." Yuck! Who wants that? If one purpose trials serve is to help chisel out the impurities…
…what if I accept them in obedience?
…what if I don’t narrow my focus to what my eyes alone can see?
…what if I can choose to be thankful for the wisdom these trials will bring?
If a man who is dying of colon cancer can say that he is thankful for every trial that comes along because he knows that the purpose of each moment of pain is to make him more like Christ, maybe I should get some perspective! "How can we not be thankful for the things which make us more like Christ?" he asks.
By the grace of God, we’re not where we used to be, and by the grace of God we’re not where we will be someday. That’s something to rejoice in.