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Ambush Predators

Suddenly I find myself worthless. I was pretty much minding my own business, running some errands and without an ounce of warning the thought popped into my head that I am worthless and I can't shake the idea. The damned thing pounced on me as stealthily as any prowling mountain lion. I didn't see it coming. Some folks get to have brilliant thoughts. Mine are ambush predators. Tapes that play over and over in my head, coiling themselves tighter and tighter. Each time I try to take in a breath of hope, they constrict.

What is it about me. Do I seem to be the weakest of the herd? Do my thoughts turn on me because they see me as an easy target? Am I bent on self destruction? It seems if the right button is pushed I begin going through the index system of experience to find proof they are valid. I must be worthless. Abandoned as a child, unmarried, unloved, unwanted. Those certainly prove I am not worth having around. What have I accomplished? Nothing. What will I accomplish? A whole lot of nothing. What can I do to change that? Nothing. Self-pity breeding unchecked steals my want to. I don't want to hope. I don't want to believe that I am right and I don't want to believe that I am wrong. I hear every cutting criticism ever spoken to me. I feel every cutting remark. My soul bruises with opinions that don't match mine.

As quickly as the assault got started, the thoughts are gone. What did it mean? Do I think too highly of myself? Is my theology distorted? What is the purpose of feeling those moments of despair? Can they be meant to teach me something? Do they only have value if I play with them? If I try them on for size can I return them for a full refund if they don't fit? If they do fit, can I fix them?

Taking every thought captive and being captivated by thought are way different. The later will cause you pain, the former will return you to wholeness again.


Comments

Hobster said…
from the "For What It's Worth" Department...it's not just you. Sure, yours are tailor made for you--they'd do little to tangle me up, and you'd just laugh off the things that sink me.

If I were a better person, I'd be able to point you to the section in Gurnall where he talks about this.

But, you're stuck with this schlub. As I recall, the metaphor that stuck with me the most about this is that Satan leaves his brats (bairns maybe?) on our mind's doorsteps screaming and hollering for attention. Our job is to leave them out there to starve and freeze to death, rather than bring them inside and give them a nice, cozy home and food to build up their strength.
rosemarie said…
Hobs,

Thanks for the comment. I know we all get them but of course I think mine are more venomous than yours because they poison me. Self-centered even in the things I want to rid myself of...

I am fairly certain the attacks are not as random as they appear and that we all get the deadliest of them when we least expect it, which is the point. When we get kicked and we're already down or we're cresting the wave of good stuff we sort of expect it, you know? It's getting kicked when you're in neutral that will push you one way or the other. For a moment I was worthless and in the moment I remembered I am property of the Most High and get my value from Him.

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