I'm no doctor as you can tell but I think I can spot some trends in the medical community. Everything today is a condition or disorder or something now identified with initials. When I work out, I can't avoid the radio in the weight room and it seems at least a quarter of the ads are about diseases I've never heard of but now require a specialist or at least medication. Without poking fun at those with very real illnesses, I cannot be the only person believing we are over prescribed, over analyzed, and over medicated in our society. We've spawned a whole generation of non-medical medical experts who can tell you exactly what is wrong with other people, especially kids and especially dealing with a capital letter prognosis. Like OCD. My guess is that is the arena of people who are habitually habitual and maddeningly so at times. I think we lay persons throw those three initials around way too much......... .
Well, of course, my case is different because it's always different if it's you or me. I admit that I'm a creature of routine and find some comfort in doing things to extreme on some limited situations. For example, as a high school and college basketball player, I would tie and re-tie my Converse shoes countless times before games, trying in vain to find the perfect feel. Perhaps that was just a superstition which athletes must have to be considered athletes. But, in all sincerity, I do have an issue which is not life threatening and affects no one but me and it has to do with the picture at the top of the page. Before I go to bed each night, I check the locks on my door to make sure they are all in the locked position and the little chain is in the groove. I check...and double check and triple check...and sometimes more. I also have to know the exact location of my keys. Sometimes, I'm already in bed and I get up just to make sure. My phobia, if that's what it is, was exacerbated a number of years ago by a neighbor who sufficiently unnerved me that I began sleeping with an aluminum bat and barricading my door with furniture before hitting the sack. Fortunately, the neighbor moved on but I'm still recovering from the experience. And I cannot go to sleep unless I'm absolutely sure everything is tightly secured for the night. Good thing for melatonin!
I know it's silly and I know I'm in no danger but that doesn't mean I can easily give up the compulsive door checking. It's kind of like guilt. As Christians, we know we're forgiven BUT just in case, we feel that nagging sense of shame anyway. We know God's promises and the blood of Jesus and the promise of 1 John 1:7 but we want to beat ourselves up to make ourselves feel better about ourselves. How can that make any sense? The door is locked or it isn't. Feeling nervous about my salvation doesn't bring me closer to the Lord. I know I'm saved...... but let me peek one last time. It doesn't make for restful nights. Repeat after me the words of Sabine Baring-Gould from his timeless hymn, Now The Day Is Over:
When the morning wakens,
Then may I arise
Pure and fresh and sinless
In thy holy eyes.
And let Steve and all the Steves out there say, AMEN. Well, maybe two AMENS just to be sure!
Applicable quote of the day:
“I do not have OCD OCD OCD”
Emilie Autumn
God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1
www.hawleybooks.com
E-mal me at steve@hawleybooks.com
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