I wish I could show you what my house looks like right now as I’m sitting at our desktop, eating some soup, writing to you. I mean, I know I could take some pictures and upload them but I’m much too lazy for that right now. It is a disaster. There are smashed blueberries on my couch. Angelina Ballerina looks like she has had enough of being my daughter’s play thing and has hung herself from the banister with ribbon. I stepped on blocks, socks, legos and more than one Minnie Mouse to get up the stairs.
Normally, leaving the house in disarray while I have lunch and do something I enjoy would give me a massive, combined dose of guilt and anxiety. Not today.
Today, EGS is playing at her Grandma’s house, and her other Grandma is coming over to play with her tonight. I have a little time to breathe. To thank God for the day. To take a shower.
Guilt sucks. It’s never from God. Hear that? Not ever. God doesn’t use guilt. We know we’ve done something wrong, or feel as though we may have? Repent. Slate clean. Continue on with your life with gratitude for a gracious and loving Father, and extend the same to others. Do you live that way? Why not? Did you know that He died so you wouldn’t have to walk around with guilt and shame? So that you could say (and mean it), “Man, I messed up- I’m sorry!” And that he had forgiven you even before you asked? He never uses guilt.
I was struck this week by reading in 1 Timothy how we weren’t given spirits of fear. If He didn’t give it us, where’d it come from? Same goes for guilt. If God doesn’t use guilt, where does it come from?
I don’t want anything that didn’t come straight from the big guy. Not a thing. So, guilt about the state of my stovetop? Nope. I’m going to read in my quiet, toddler free house. Because He loves me.
Live like He loves you. Because He does.