Yesterday, while I was at work, one of my wonderful bosses gave me this increadible piece of choclate. I lept with joy inside as I recieved this small morsel because, you see, I'm a chocoholic. I grew even more excited as I read the lable "Dark Choclate with Mint Cream." Dark choclate is my absolute favorite. I like it for two reasons! First of all, the flavor is out of this world. Secondly, dark choclate has much less milk in it, so I don't get as sick.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I'm alergic to milk. This little fact makes my continual cravings for choclate a bit of a burden. I usually do all right and am able to resist the urge to indulge, but occasionally, the temptation is just too strong. I have the hardest time at resturants and parties when a nice big decadant piece of choclate cake is delicately placed in front of me. (Work with me here as I get discriptive, it helps me set the mood so you can see how strong of a temptation it really is). It's sitting there in it's shimmering shade of beautiful brown beconing me "Laura, eat me, you know I taste so good!" As I longingly stare at the delicacy before me, my eyes start to sparkle as a battle begins in my head, "That thing must be loaded with milk! But it looks soooo good! It won't hurt me just to have one bite." Before you know it, I'm sitting with a belly full of exquisite choclate cake. Then a few hours later, I'm as sick as a dog; making sure that at any given moment, I am no more than 30ft away from the closest bathroom. At that point I'm sorry, very sorry. I vow to be good to my body. I vow never again to eat another piece of rich, creamy choclate cake. And I mean it. I mean it of course, until the next beautiful piece of choclate delight is placed before my feasting eyes.
Why am I bothering to write about this increadible weakness? Because God used it to give me a little wake up call today. I was reading in Judges about how the Isrealites totally ignored what the Lord told them about mixing with the Cannanites. "Oh boy," I thought,"they're in for trouble." And I was right. God sent His angel to rebuke them. They wailed and cried and felt so bad. Then, they turned around and disobeyed God again. This was the beginning of an endless cycle of disobedience and being sort of sorry. This cycle continued on for quite some time. As I've heard this story before, I've always thought, "You dumb Isrealites,don't you ever learn?" Then God kind of turned the tables on me and said, "But Laura, don't you do the same all the time." Immediatly my mind was flooded with choclate cake and a bazzillion other examples of when I am just as repentant as those crazy Isrealites.
As I sat there, I thought, "Okay Lord, now you have my attention, but what am I supposed to do?" He guided me to Psalm 51.This is a Psalm of David written after he messed around with Bathsheba. He was truly sorry for what he had done. It was through this passage, that God showed me what being sorry is all about. Now, I just pray that He will work in me to produce true repentance whenever I muff things up.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
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