If you have ever tried to download a video off the internet, be it newscast, clips of a program, or whatever, you have probably encountered the commercial curse: you can’t watch what you went there to watch without tolerating some random commercial first. It’s annoying, but all they are after is a captive audience and that they have. So, I thought I’d employ the technique here. In just a moment you can read what you actually came here to read: “Drowning in My Own Filth”. But first, a quick commercial.

Tired of paying too much for fuel? Tired of grocery stores charging an arm and a leg for toothpaste and dish soap? We are too! But we can’t do anything about it. What we can do is tell you that we are at about 30% of our monthly budget and at about 15% of our Outgoing Expense budget. In short, that means God has 2 months to uncover about $3500 in monthly commitments and about $40,000 in our Outgoing Expense budget. Oh, and He has to sell our house too or we cannot start training in early September, much less leave for Africa in January!

And don’t miss the series premier of “Missionaries Run Wild” on www.envoygroup.org.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming…

As soon as I walked in the door my mind was racing with all that had to be done. First, I needed to get Cole in bed and Isaac some lunch – you know, get them out of my way! Cole was uncharacteristically submissive so I was beginning to feel optimistic. As I slathered sugar free strawberry preserves on a piece of whole wheat bread the checklist in my mind began oozing out my ears. Stress cultivated it’s usual crop of impatience as Isaac demanded we discuss every scene from “VeggieTales: Pirates who don’t do anything”. Employing the infamous “mmmHmmm” I made valiant attempts to engage with him but my mind was on lap 200 of some mental NASCAR race and the truth is, Isaac wasn’t even part of the pit crew.

After topping off his carrots and mandarin wedges I finally convinced him to the top of the stairs where he begged for a story. As only SuperMom can do, I read him one of his favorites without ever actually “reading” a word! Thankfully he took charge of turning pages or my cover would have been blown completely. I reigned victorious in the just-one-more war and began plotting how to avoid the stay-awake war all together. I tucked him in and lay down next to him being sure to lay close enough as to pin his arms and legs under the comforter. Stillness is always they key to sleepiness. I closed my eyes as a form of peer pressure and let the List Liar loose again. I ignored the undercover drumming of Isaac’s little fingers until it began to interfere with my concentration. Unsure of what game would ensue I laid my arm on his hands, muted the rhythms, and worked to extinguish my annoyance. It left the human realm when he pulled his hands free from my vice and laid one right on top of mine. I began to pray: “Lord, I don’t have the patience to play this game with him right now”. I felt Isaac’s fingers softly brush back and forth across my own. “Dear Jesus, show me how to keep my cool and still get this kids to…”

My own thoughts were interrupted with an image. My hand…upside down with my son’s lying gently inside. My thumb moved slowly across each little digit, exactly as his little fingers were doing to mine now. How many times have I done this to him in an effort to calm a wounded heart, a fearful spirit, or just trying to tell him I love him? I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me. It’s like he had crawled inside my busy brain and saw me drowning…drowning in my own selfish filth. And now, his little fingers were beckoning my peace.

He closed his eyes and withdrew his hand, but I just watched him. There was no denying my 4-year-old was God’s messenger today.

In my quiet time this morning I reviewed the story in II Chronicles 20 about Jehoshaphat and the army that never raised a sword. Thousands of armored soldiers lay slain before them and the only item on their checklist for war: praise! God had conquered every detail while the army of Judah put aside their battle plan and just worshipped Him in obedience.

My commercial at the start of this entry may have seemed overwhelming and impossible. And honestly if I had started this posting 30 minutes sooner you may have been subjected to faithless chatter and shameless pleading. But the tiny fingers of my firstborn reminded me that a quiet spirit of praise is occasionally more effective than strategy and skill.

We had a friend visiting from Malawi, Africa Saturday night. He shared stories of spiritual warfare that you probably wouldn’t believe, and if you did, it would give you nightmares. My own skepticism probed me to ask of him, “Hastings, why don’t we see Satan do these things in America?” I’ll never forget his reply. He said, “I think you are just too busy, and that works for him”.