Giving Up My Buts
I don’t know about you, but when it comes to believing God for the Impossible, I have two big BUT problems.
I don’t know about you, but when it comes to believing God for the Impossible, I have two big BUT problems.
by Rhonda Rhea in Leading Hearts magazine
I REMEMBER PLAYING THE “WE’VE GOT-FIVE-KIDS” VERSION OF THE GAME “CLUE.” Who did it? Never just a whole lot of doubt there: It was the toddler—in the family room—with a permanent marker.
We held our things and furniture and carpets and walls all pretty loosely in the days of raising kids, though it was still tough not to get just a little bent out of shape when yet another lamp would bite the dust. It still amazes me that no one knew who broke it or how it happened. Except that I do doubt.
And it wasn’t just the kids doing the demolition. One time a kitten clawed his way from floor to ceiling on my newly painted wall. He was halfway down again before I pulled him off. I’m pretty sure I saw his life flash before my eyes. Is that a thing that can happen? Because I might’ve seen it nine times.
Believe it or not, doubt is much more destructive than five kids and a cat. It has a way of grabbing onto our joy and fruitfulness and sort of clawing it up from floor to ceiling.
He’s been effectively using it as a weapon since the fall of man. As a matter of fact, it was his weapon of choice in the initiation of the fall in the first place.
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