Beating the Worst Temptation of All

"He makes me whole again,
    steering me off worn, hard paths
    to roads where truth and righteousness echo His name." (Psalm 23:3, Voice)

A dear lady friend and outstanding musician in my town, whose religious choice was not rooted in the good news of the Gospel, once told me that during the Christmas season, she doesn't ignore it but instead "celebrates the myths." And I have to confess that instead of being shocked or offended when she said that, I laughed with her. It sounded so strange, it was hilarious.

A shading of truth can make you laugh, too, in a different way: For years, I'd read books and articles, and heard messages from well-meaning teacher-believers who claim that if you're truly a Christ-one, temptation is avoidable. That there's absolutely no need to keep on celebrating the myth that temptation is part of life.  That somehow, somewhere, there's this humongous secret super-spiritual button you can push to avoid the "T" word. 

And the more you read and hear stuff like that, you can begin to think there's something wrong with you. Because, try as you might, an endless list of magnets seem to be trying to draw you off-course every single minute. The triggers can be any number of things, but when fatigue and stress and what Oswald Chambers describes as "mental wool-gathering" all team up, there is no myth in coming face-to-face with the worst temptation of them all:

"I quit."

Not really, but they're the two words that most easily flow off your lips when summing up the ravages of weariness from hour after hour or day after day of, well, whatever. The two words the enemy of your soul delights in most.

Which may be one reason why Jesus included "lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil" in His model prayer for daily life. I find myself praying this, holding on to this, after I've fallen into some God-forsaken hole of varying depth and shape. Which is fine, but better to know that it is a prayer that meant to be fuel for joyful perseverance ...

...One late evening, the triggers toward "I quit" had mounted during the long day as I pulled into the driveway. It was such a beautiful night, with the sunlight lingering long and sweet on the horizon, and yet the idea of doing or thinking one more thing made the temptation of curling up under the covers and trying to make it all go away by morning sound very appealing.

Until I looked in the refrigerator and realized I was out of a daily essential: "What? No orange juice?!" With the weight of "I quit, what-ever" temptation lingering, countered by the inner groan of "Lord, help!!," I headed to the store to fulfill my mission.

Until I drove down into the village, and noticed that the sunlight that was lingering long and sweet on the horizon was casting a gorgeous golden glow on the cupola of the Town House. The next think I knew, I had camera in hand and was walking through the village, looking up and taking in the light show, and trying to find just the right angle to capture that glow on the cupola.

Along the way, a gentleman watering the garden of an historic building that few get to enter during most of the year saw my photo pursuit and asked "Want to look inside?" What ensued was a 15-minute private history lesson about an aspect of my hometown I'd never known. And if I thought I was feeling weary, what these folks went through to make a go of it back in the day blew that up quickly.

Coincidental appointment? I think not. And instead of "I quit," gratitude began to seep back in and swallow up the temptation to not really care about really anything but me-my-myselfness. 

On golden nights like that, my car has a way of finding its way to a favorite scenic vista high above town. As many times as I've paused or driven by, this night seemed unlike the rest for its beauty. Peaceful goldenness for miles around (photo at top). Gratitude had completed its course, and the temptation was overwhelmed.

I never did make it to the store for more OJ.

It's good to know that while temptation is definitely not a myth, God always hears our feeble groans of help and reaching out so that we won't fall into its trap...if only we will listen, look (even in the refrigerator), and follow:
"Not that way, but this way,
Out of the way,
Run away,
I'll show the way." 

In the words of John Piper:

"Today, I will stand before innumerable temptations. That's what life is: endless choices between belief and unbelief, obedience and disobedience. But O Mighty God, forbid that I would yield. Hold me back from stepping inside the temptation." 

It often begins by beholding the glory all around you, and letting gratitude win the day.

[Adapted from 6/25/17]