I have a feeling I make too much of feelings...
I have a feeling I make too much of feelings.
If I don’t feel close to God, I hastily conclude I must not be. How could you actually be close to God without feeling so?
If I don’t feel good about my message from the weekend I have a hard time believing it was anything but a waste of time for everyone who sat under the sound of my voice.
If I don’t feel in love with my wife—well then—we must have lost that lovin’ feeling. I remember youthful feelings and conclude that we’re on the slide toward the great divide. Bogus.
If I don’t feel happy on my day off then I’m prone to sulk at the first brush up against bad news. I rush to the conclusion that “I can’t get no satisfaction” no matter my successes.
If I don’t feel like my daughters are as responsive to my presence as they used to be it’s easy for me to retreat to mindless activities that make me feel better about myself…or at least nothing about myself. I certainly don’t want to feel bad about myself.
If I don’t feel that people are growing as a result of my ministry, then I must not be doing something right that makes people feel connected and I can retreat to a sad and ever saddening place of futility.
If I don’t feel like I have consistent friendships that provide mutual and natural encouragement I easily begin to feel like people don’t have time for such things anymore or that friendship is a myth.
If I don’t feel like anyone really cares about the real me and they’re only interested in what I can do for them, I begin to close off my heart to feel as deeply for the souls of people so they can’t hurt me.
If I don’t feel like I’m measuring up to my own unspoken and unwritten standards of excellence then I need to do something more, better, or different.
If I don’t feel enjoyment in the simple things of life I probably am losing the nerve endings of my spirit as the world steamrolls my innards with the gravity of it all.
If I don’t feel as moved today by people’s pain as I used to I must not care about human hurt anymore and should probably be looking for a different occupation.
If I don’t feel as many feelings as I once did I must be losing heart and sliding down the slippery slope of resignation.
Isn’t it funny how pathos can morph into something pathetic?
"Lord, guard me from being governed by my feelings. Help me to bring my emotions to you and submit them to your tender truths. I love my feelings. Thank you for making them so strong and stout. Now I ask you to guide them with the rudder of reality, reality as defined by You, God. I put my vacillating heart into Your fascinating hand. Hold it and help it along."
If I don’t feel close to God, I hastily conclude I must not be. How could you actually be close to God without feeling so?
If I don’t feel good about my message from the weekend I have a hard time believing it was anything but a waste of time for everyone who sat under the sound of my voice.
If I don’t feel in love with my wife—well then—we must have lost that lovin’ feeling. I remember youthful feelings and conclude that we’re on the slide toward the great divide. Bogus.
If I don’t feel happy on my day off then I’m prone to sulk at the first brush up against bad news. I rush to the conclusion that “I can’t get no satisfaction” no matter my successes.
If I don’t feel like my daughters are as responsive to my presence as they used to be it’s easy for me to retreat to mindless activities that make me feel better about myself…or at least nothing about myself. I certainly don’t want to feel bad about myself.
If I don’t feel that people are growing as a result of my ministry, then I must not be doing something right that makes people feel connected and I can retreat to a sad and ever saddening place of futility.
If I don’t feel like I have consistent friendships that provide mutual and natural encouragement I easily begin to feel like people don’t have time for such things anymore or that friendship is a myth.
If I don’t feel like anyone really cares about the real me and they’re only interested in what I can do for them, I begin to close off my heart to feel as deeply for the souls of people so they can’t hurt me.
If I don’t feel like I’m measuring up to my own unspoken and unwritten standards of excellence then I need to do something more, better, or different.
If I don’t feel enjoyment in the simple things of life I probably am losing the nerve endings of my spirit as the world steamrolls my innards with the gravity of it all.
If I don’t feel as moved today by people’s pain as I used to I must not care about human hurt anymore and should probably be looking for a different occupation.
If I don’t feel as many feelings as I once did I must be losing heart and sliding down the slippery slope of resignation.
Isn’t it funny how pathos can morph into something pathetic?
"Lord, guard me from being governed by my feelings. Help me to bring my emotions to you and submit them to your tender truths. I love my feelings. Thank you for making them so strong and stout. Now I ask you to guide them with the rudder of reality, reality as defined by You, God. I put my vacillating heart into Your fascinating hand. Hold it and help it along."
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