Back In The Day

About 2 weeks ago, I booked a short notice flight to Ohio. Initially, the trip was intended to help my mom as she recovered from a hospital stay and to assist my dad with the house and dogs until she fully recovered from an undiagnosed ailment. As it turned out, she felt well enough all week to play cards, go to the movies, and even frequent a museum during my stay. I am thankful to report that when her diagnosis was finally relayed to her after my stay, the road back to good health was easily treatable. Scary stuff averted~ score one for the home team!
On the way to Ohio, during a layover that gave me just enough time to hit the ladies room, grab a latte' from Starbucks using a gift card snuggled in the bottom of an old purse and (literally) speed walk from one end of Charlotte International to the other, I grabbed a NY Times bestseller off a kiosk by a romance novelist I used to follow back in the day. Most of us have that time period, don't we? Back in the day is when we believed in God but there was little or no relationship. It's when we drank too much every weekend (and the occasional Monday through Thursday), probably attended church begrudgingly or not at all, held bitterness and unforgiveness close to our hearts, cursed regularly and maybe even made fun of the gullibility of fanatic Jesus followers.  My "back in the day" included most of those things...and reading romance novels was a harmless little past time for a mommy who chased kids all day and had a deployed husband many nights.
I'll be honest. I don't feel any regret about that particular vice I had many years ago but, my oh my, how times have changed. As I got as comfortable as one can get on a fully booked commuter flight to Dayton Ohio, I pick the book up. I put the book down. I pick the book up. I put the book down. Is it guilt keeping me from this escapism?
No. It's better.
It's disinterest. Complete and utter disinterest.
Oh, no, not in romance! Disinterest in escaping from anything via a predictable plot and poor character development and replacing it with a voracious interest in reading C.S. Lewis or Joyce Meyer or Francis Chan or (gasp!) the bible.
If we are growing in Christ and becoming more mature as Christians, this inevitable process sneaks up on us like a bad cold. We just naturally begin to have our hearts break for what breaks His~ it becomes less and less of a "choice". It just IS.
We don't need to drink excessively, we begin to forgive others because God has forgiven us, we notice when others curse constantly and it starts to make the little hairs on our neck stand up...and maybe serious offenses toward God like pornography and broken marriage vows lose their appeal and we begin to become more in His image. We begin to change our hearts and actions. We begin to be disciples.
Is there any better gift? I don't think so.
Yes, the occasional curse word slips out when I'm angry.
Yes, I still enjoy a glass on Pinot Noir with dinner.
Yes, I am still a sinner and always will be.
On the other hand, His grace has lifted me from escapism. Today, I stay firmly rooted in my here and now even when the waters get rough and grabbing the familiar life preserver of numbing the pain seems easier. And it's all because I asked Him to change me.. and I meant it.

Are you growing in your relationship with Christ?
Does your heart break for what breaks His?
I'm praying for you today. Specifically for you.

I don't look at my "back in the day" as anything but a gift. If I hadn't been there, how would I know how far I've come?
Blessings,
Amy