What I say I won’t do may be the very thing I do.
She stood before the minister and uttered the words of most brides. She promised before the congregation and God to be faithful to her husband and to care for him in sickness and in health. For the first few years, keeping her promise was easy. She was in love. Then life got hectic. Her husband’s job kept him away from home for long stretches of time. The attention she craved from him began coming from a work cohort who preyed on dissatisfied, lonely women. Their fling started with innocent flirting but finished with full-blown unfaithfulness. She did what she promised she never would.
Peter felt her pain. Impetuous. Bold. Prideful. When Jesus announced at his last supper that all of his disciples would desert him, Peter proudly proclaimed he never would—even if it meant dying. He discovered, however, he could do what he imagined he never would.
Peter obviously never reflected on what he was capable of—the good, but in this case the bad. What I’m capable of runs the gamut of good and evil. Saying I will never commit a particular sin—as Peter did, sets me up for Satan’s temptation. Words that I speak or think give Satan the information he seeks to establish a stronghold in my life.
Since I have a sinful nature, I’m able to fall into the uttermost depths of evil if I listen to the wrong voices. Peter did. Two voices vie for my attention. One says, “Do good,” while the other says, “Do evil.” Even as a believer, I still have the flesh to contend with, which makes listening to the wrong voice possible.
Letting down my guard will also lead me into worse case scenarios. Putting on the armor of God daily keeps me protected from the fiery darts of Satan. Failing to do so allows his darts of sin to penetrate my spirit, and my worst will emerge.
Though your worst can resurrect itself, God can overpower it with good.
Prayer: Merciful God, we thank You that when our worst comes out, You cover it with Your forgiveness.