"MAMA, HE SAID I WASN'T FOUR YEARS OLD!" cries my middle son, obviously upset at the insistence of my youngest.
"Well, sweet boy, you are four. So believe the true thing."
(And no, this is not my son. Though the expression is all too familiar)
We have these types of conversations often. One says one thing. The other knows a different thing to be true. Yet agitation and tears flow as "the other" ponders the lie.
But is this not me?
I know the true thing. He loves me, actively and deeply. He is always good. He reigns over this particular situation. He has me here with purpose.
Yet I get agitated and tears flow as I explore the lie. As I turn it round and round in my hands, believing its every crevice. But if He loved me then this. If He was good then not this.
The answer to the emotional madness lies in the focus. If I set my eyes and mind on the untruths, then that which Christ died to give me is stolen--love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control.
But if I choose to believe the true thing, Spirit-rest fills my lungs. And I breathe. And I smile.
"Oh. Yeah. I am four."
What He declares about me is true. What He reveals about Himself will always be. What He promises for tomorrow will come to pass. Plain. Simple. Truth. The choice is in the believing.
Bringing it home...
How do you choose to believe the true thing?
What true thing are you actively choosing to believe these days?