Lately I've found myself with hurt feelings.
Hurt from others. The words they've said. The things they've done. The disappointments they've brought. Things that hurt and shocked and stung my well-being.
I've found myself digging deep and letting those hurts control my mood.
Letting those hurts steal my joy. Letting those wounds fester and ooze and redden and infect my mind.
And rather than casting them aside, believing the Truth that can set it all free, and knowing that those wounds have already been cared for by the Physician . . I've let them stay.
And it's worn me down into a tired ball of bleck.
The other day, I was thinking of a situation involving an acquaintance and I realized that I was really upset with this person. I was really frustrated and irritated with their actions and I found my mind going down a path that painted this individual as a rotten and nasty person who just needed a little Jesus. I imagined myself giving this person the what-for and letting them know just what I thought about them. I even dreamed about confronting this person a few nights ago, and when I woke up I was a little disappointed that it wasn't real.
And then, in the middle of one of my mental-tirades, it dawned on me that I tend to expect the worst from certain people, but I always expect others to see the best in me. I constantly hope that people will look past my mistakes and sins and shames and see the person that I strive to be. I hope they are able to see my intentions and not judge me on my actions.
I'm a pitiful, fleshy human who is often not willing to extend the same grace that I demand to receive from others.
And it has become a true lesson in mentally treating others the way I want to be treated.
Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other. John 13:34-35 MSG