Resolutions

...have you abandoned yours yet?

They are certainly a laudable custom. A new year, a new calendar...what better time to make a fresh start, to re-assess and decide to make some much-needed changes. 

Too bad statistically, most of them don't stick. 

Why is it that perhaps the surest way to make sure that I do something, is to determine that "I WILL NOT DO THAT THING" ? 

Am I the only one who experiences this?

"I will not eat that cookie."
[15 minutes later] "Ok, I'll just eat half of it."
[30 minutes later] (brushing off crumbs) "Huh, where'd all the cookies go...?"

Ok, that's a quaint example, (and I haven't eaten a cookie in years now, sniff...) but you get my point.

"I will exercise for 20 minutes before breakfast."
"I will not go online until lunch."
"I will not spend more than we've budgeted."

Not all of them are necessarily reining in bad behavior, though.

"I will not tell them what I'm truly thinking or feeling."
"I will remain aloof and detached, so I don't get hurt again."
"I will stop reaching out, stop doing things that I enjoy, stop caring."



It seems that, when it comes to drawing lines in the sand...they get washed away just as quickly as the next wave rolls in.  I've a sneaking suspicion that, when I trace those lines with my finger, the fact that I do them in sand shows that I never really intended to keep them anyways.

If a line's going to stick, then it needs to be etched in something solid.  Hard lines, of the all-or-nothing sort.  There are plenty of those in my life, and they're pretty effective at keeping myself in check.  I still rebel against them, but on the whole they hold.  They take work to build - and it's painful work - but those few that exist have been invaluable.

So, why is it, though, that creating a line inevitably begets a strong and immediate desire to cross it?  Ah, the Old Adam strikes again. Romans 7 comes to mind, particularly vs 8: "But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness."  If you tell a child, "Don't touch that," even if prior to that moment they had no wish to do so, now suddenly they feel that they MUST.  I wish that were a trait that we humans outgrew at some point; I'm still waiting.

It makes things seem futile, though!  If I decide not to sin, that's the best way to ensure that I DO sin.  But should I therefore decide not to avoid sin, as though that'd make things better?  Certainly not.  It's a catch-22, it seems.  We fight against sin, but it's inevitably a losing battle.  We have met the enemy, and he is us.  We can't beat him into submission; he must be killed.  Daily.  Preferably by drowning.



"I, a poor miserable sinner, confess unto you all my sins and iniquities..."

"I forgive you all of your sins..."

So, what about the lines, though?  Should I not draw them (since they seem to quickly draw ME [in], to do the very thing I intend to avoid)?  No, I think they still have their place.  But remembering that the Law is there, not because with enough lines and fences and hedges it can actually be kept, but rather to be a standard that is unattainable, that drives me to Christ.  Fight, yes, and always say with Luther, "And I pray that you would forgive me all of my sins where I have done wrong, and graciously keep me this night."

Perhaps the best resolution to make, is one to repent.  Always.  (And even that isn't my own work, it's God's Word working in me.)



Ok, I'm out of time, so that'll have to do.  
I will not write any more in this post.


(...t-minus 10...9...8...)


-M


(yup, I edited and added to it.  Ha!  Go figure.)