F or V

It is too often the scarlet letter of my life. I’m not talking about the shameful “A” sewn on Hester Prynn’s garment in Hawthorne’s classic. Mine is an internal letter; a big “F” sewn on my heart. The “F” stands for failure. Sometimes my prayer life seems to consist of one continuous apology. “Lord, I’m sorry…again.” There are days that I wonder if I will ever overcome my childish, selfish tendencies.
The Scripture that I most relate to in these times is the question that the Apostle Paul asked in Romans 7:24, “O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” Yeah, I know how that feels. My greatest enemy is often the one frowning back at me in the mirror. I know some people struggle with hateful neighbors, irritating coworkers, or dysfunctional families. I have found, however, that the person who gives me the most grief is none other than my own sinful self.
What I am learning (however slowly) is that as long as I tolerate it, my nemesis “self” will always give me problems. I can’t sit down at the peace table and make negotiations with my personal enemy. There can be no cease-fire. The internal enemy of my flesh can only be dealt with through the most drastic of measures – he must die.
In an age where a high self image is a premium, I am not trying to build up myself; I am trying to kill it. I am not talking about suicide, but rather spiritual survival. The old man must be crucified, to state it Biblically. Everyday, there has to be an execution. I know it sounds brutal, but not everything about Christianity is flowery and sunny. As morose as it may sound, every new day of my life should begin with a funeral. I must die to myself in order to truly live in Christ.
When self dies, the scarlet “F” that I so often feel emblazoned on my heart can be removed and replaced with a beautiful “V”. A “V” for victory!