The Flesh

Somedays, I just don’t feel “holy.”  Know what I mean?  Somedays, I just don’t feel like I’m really dialed into Jesus.  Somedays, I wake up, and unknowingly, I re-animate my flesh.  I say re-animate because, according to Paul, my flesh is crucified with Christ (see Galatians 5:24)   .  If it’s dead, the only way it comes back is if I breathe life into it again.  Today was one of those re-animating days.

I didn’t get out of the bed and say “Self, today I’d like to re-animate my old flesh!”  If it were only that simple to do, then it would be that simple to recognize and put a stop to.  It happens gradually.  A perceived slight here, a selfish moment there, an unmet need or something akin to that in my mind and, helloooooo flesh!
I spent most of the day in a major funk.  This funk only intensified when I had no caffeine and no lunch until nearly 4 o’clock.  The raging headache only contributed to my generally sour mood.  Amanda kept asking what was wrong, but I couldn’t really put my finger on it.  At least, not for a while.  Later, when I realized that I had a dead guy chained to me, and that I was letting him call the shots, I began the long, slow process of repentance.
It’s amazing to me how quickly I can fall back into “the old man.”  I was a real jerk today.  Selfish, moody, generally not fun to be around.  Why?  Because I didn’t get my way?  Because I felt I wasn’t getting something I wanted?  Because life wasn’t going “my way” this day?
Stupid, isn’t it?  But truth.  So I prayed, and I asked Amanda’s forgiveness for being a putz.
And I’ll start again tomorrow.
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