Not Idiocy

We're watching Fellowship of the Ring, and between bedtimes and what not, we watched Weathertop twice. Both times, the kids I live with declared Frodo "Idiot!" the moment he, facing getting caught, facing terror, not knowing what it will do, facing external urges to do so, puts on the Ring. 

And I just find myself in Frodo in that moment, too weak against temptation. But I don't think idiocy is the explanation, and thus I don't think learning more or doing mental exercises for a smarter brain would help. 

Romans 7:15-16 ESV — For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good.

So what does help? 

A friend recently shared a quote to the effect of "worry means we don't trust God the way He deserves." I can agree with that, and I think it is closer to the true cause than being an idiot. But what do we do about not having faith? We can't just read the quote and change. Willpower is exactly what we don't have, so we can't just choose to feel differently. 

Some things I believe help, though they aren't instant fixes: prayer (for huge, God-sized things and also for daily bread); prayer with other believers; gratitude and worship; stories that train my imagination in certain tracks; practicing diligently in smaller things; staying away from unnecessary exposure to bigger temptations. Frodo had friends later literally hold him back from doing what he was tempted to do. 

What else?

To God be all glory.

Anxiety Deposits

 At work this week one of the front desk staff had to call our notoriously grumpy, entitled other office to ask them to schedule an emergency patient in one of their same day open slots. Everyone was nervous. Anxious that whoever at the other office answered the phone would react badly. 

It ended up going smoothly, but I noticed that it is unlikely the emotional memory of the 15 minutes or so, when we didn't know the outcome, will be erased: in the future, our hearts will have added those minutes to a pattern of distrust and distress to inform ongoing interactions. Even though once we found out the outcome, all our worries had been refuted. 

It made me think about anxiety and worry, and how hard it is to take back the deposit we put on the side of feeling like things are going badly. How it cycles. Next time we will probably be more likely to be nervous, because we (unjustly, if reasonably) chose nerves this time. The effect could be such that no amount of different-than-feared outcomes may correct the early bad experiences. Unless we can do something with our hearts to reset. To notice and feel the good. 

So I want to learn to reset. To help others reset. And to be careful not to invest in worry to begin with: to actively choose optimism and benefit of the doubt - or at the very least, choose to see it as an opportunity for me to minister grace and patience, and to see God work in human brokenness.

To God be all glory.