inner musings.
I frequently monologue to myself, especially when I’m alone. And often times I don’t realize I’m doing it. I carry on, and only when it comes to an end do I realize I should have recorded it, somehow. There’s always a great sense of despair when I’ve come to this point because I know I can no longer retrieve it. The genius has come and gone. There goes a good blog, sermon, piece of insight, or whatever. I feel better, but I don’t remember what made me better.
The scariest about these moments is how my mood sets the tone for the monologue. I can come out of my private time feeling like I’ve just preached to myself and restored a glimmer of hope; or I could come out feeling debilitated. Thus are the power of words, the power of our spirit.
Practically speaking, when it comes to feeling or thinking a certain way, perhaps nothing speaks more loudly and powerfully into my life than my own feelings and thoughts. I am the director, the demigod of my life. I confess Jesus as Lord of my life, but if I am not dying unto myself and placing Christ as Lord, then I am merely exercising my tongue apart from my heart. A great euphemism for the hypocrite.
Rather, what I must strive to do is not cancel all monologue, but place the power of these monologues below the eminence of Scripture. As long as Scripture is not the first and final say in my life, my life will go on, but according to something else other than God. Scripture is to inform, challenge, and change me. Scripture is not to be interpreted and subordinated according to my ideas, but all of me changed according to Scripture.
