Cotton or Coal

I didn't write yesterday, for the first time in weeks. But yesterday was a God appointed day. A day where I was shown that I am, in fact, learning to value silence.

So now the Monday confession:

For weeks, I had been storing up petty resentments, nickle and diming my peace away on slights, unable even through prayer to discard them. Moment by moment, I was consumed by self, feeding on this junk and able only to see through my own eyes. Really, I was waiting to release them to someone other than God. I had plans to make my case, unload all the offenses I'd been collecting and then I would be justified. In the light, my innocence would shine forth, other's mistakes would criminalize them and we could all go about in agreement that I am truly such a patient martyr and so good to have kept this all in for so long.

I wanted absolution and didn't realize I'd already been given it.

And so, when my moment materialized, my mouth pronounced nothing.

The night before (Saturday night) I had said to Brett, "Sometimes there's so much to say, it's better to say nothing at all." On Sunday, I realized the legitimacy of what I'd said, the truth that sometimes it is better to say nothing at all. It is often the higher road.

And I had already unloaded - to God. For weeks. What more was there to say? There was no case to make.

I had dreamt a night or two ago that my mouth was full of cotton. Be careful what you pray for. God will meet you where you ask Him, and He will make the old fall away. He will prune you even if in the immediate it is not felt or seen.

I had not understood how I was changing through my prayers. I had presumed that in my obedience, I could give my troubles to God but then in my flesh, I could also give my troubles to another. But my obedience scrubbed my flesh. I found cotton in my mouth not coal but it had the same effect. I was silenced and then purified.

And I found this release pure and simple. So much more freeing than had I been allowed to choose my own path of redemption.