At a party yesterday, I wasn’t paying attention to the overeating battle. Peanuts and chocolate chips sat on the games table as we played Phase Ten. The artichoke dip was hot and inviting. The onion potato chips were satisfying and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had any kind of potato chip. So I had three dozen. I got fooled into thinking I’m here for a good time. For good taste. God is happy for us to enjoy his good gifts, but that’s not the core concept. The core is war. Every day is a battle between wisdom and foolishness.

Maybe eating isn’t your problem. (I apologize to anyone reading this who does not have enough to eat.) Maybe you struggle with sexual temptations. Today, you gave in, listening to the voice that said, "It’s not that big a deal, just this once." Or maybe you intended to give some money to World Vision, but the checking account was drained before you got around to it. These battles are hard, aren’t they? Jesus says we reap what we sow. If we sow wisdom, we will reap goodness. If we sow foolishness, we will reap sadness.

Jesus, we want to be made holy, but it is a hard battle. Please help us pay attention.

Americans are accustomed to thinking of ourselves as blessed, but our blessings can also be our battles. Blessed yesterday to eat a lunch of fresh sweet corn from the local market, I ate one too many ears. Then, having made corn and bean salad with the leftovers, at dinner I ate too much again. I still feel uncomfortably full this morning. Forgetting self-control in the midst of abundance, I overindulged.

How easily we forget that every day is fraught with dangers and temptations. We are truly in a battle though the attacks often sneak up on us. In addition to self-control, middle-class Americans are tempted to pride in our productivity. We easily listen to the slimy reptile that whispers, first in one ear, then in the other, "You deserve all the good things you have." We don’t deserve wealth any more than a poor Indian deserves deprivation. I saw an image once of a lowest-caste Indian worker diving into raw sewage to dislodge a blockage. Why isn’t that me rather than him? Why was I born in America? I’m not better than him, nor do I deserve more of the world’s goods. I forget our essential equality at the peril of poisoning my heart.

Sweet Jesus, we want to receive the blessings of self-control and reject the poison of pride. Please draw us all–from the richest to the poorest–into your heart.

Oh, I wanted to cut a stargazer lily, I thought. When I came in from my walk, I was distracted by the weeds. In the crushed granite path through our wild backyard, the pursulane was thick. I’d been distracted by pulling it and carefully laying it on the bricks so it would dry out and not reroot, as that particularly noxious weed will do. (I know it is edible, but in my garden, it’s a weed.) In my careful attack on the weeds, I missed the beauty of the lilies.

Are you missing the beauty as you attack the weeds? You’re working hard on being less sarcastic, but you’ve missed giving yourself credit for the money you gave to the Salvation Army last week. You have a five-point plan for reducing your debt, but you don’t think about the kind tone of voice you used yesterday with your child when she was so frustrating. If you tend to shame yourself for your sin, don’t forget the beauty of the holiness that God is working in you. Sure, nobody who cares about being made in the image of Jesus is moving fast enough, but we are moving. The beauty is on its way.

Jesus, we long for your beauty made full in us.