This weekend hundreds of families will dress up, head to church services, argue with toddlers about how much candy they are allowed to eat, and check off the obligatory bi-annual religious activity until Christmas rolls around.
The first time I tried to write this article I found myself beginning by listing all of the things that are so difficult in my life right now.
I was making excuses.
Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind (my sinful, fleshy mind) I would still rather not take full responsibility for what I am going to share with you. Something tells me I’m not the only one.
When I was a child I lived in a county where there were so many different cultures I never had the opportunity to see myself, or anyone else, as different.
As a child, I sat holding back tears as I watched little heroine fairy throw herself into Hexxus’s mouth, carrying only a “single, tiny seed” as her weapon.
When I was a child, there was only one thing my mother would ever ask for when a holiday came around. It didn’t matter whether it was her birthday, Mother’s Day, Christmas, or some other occasion… Her one wish was always that her children would “get along.”
I struggled for a long (a very long) time, trying to shape Peter into the man I thought he ought to be if he were going to lead our home. If he were going to lead me. I’m not going to follow just anybody, you know. You had better know where you are going, because I sure do!
It was me who, even after being given an incredible gift of faith in Jesus Christ, had to face down these demons once again hiding in my bathroom, wallowing in loneliness…