Esther has caught a cold, now for most people a cold isn't really all that serious, but with Esther it's a big deal. So last night we put her down to sleep and she is sniffling a little bit, but within the hour she is up crying and miserable. So we know what we have to do. We get the big mouth spoon (when I was a kid mine was an alligator with legs and teeth, it was the coolest way to take medicine) and the little kid cold medicine and the war is on. She sees the thing and completely flips out. Flailing and kicking (I caught a foot to the throat) I tried to hold her to my chest while Edna got the medicine in, but it didn't work and then Esther pulled her favorite I don't want to take medicine trick, she started throwing up (she can almost do it on command now). So now we have to clean the bed and move the battlefield to the bathtub. She throws up twice more in the bathtub. Finally she's exhausted and there is a tiny bit of medicine in her.
I said all that to say this. I was reflecting on last night's nightmare and I realized that we often hate the thing that does us good. We all enter the world as little rebels, hostile to God and lovers of our own way. Then we spend our lives seeking anything other than God to bring us joy and peace, we go to psychologists to get rid of our guilt, when the supreme good, God Himself has provided for all of our needs in the Cross of His Son. Then like Naaman we say it just can't be that easy, surely there is something that I have to do.
We all naturally hate the medicine that cure our biggest problem, the sin problem. Yet God in His grace, makes us alive together with Christ (Eph. 2:5). Praise His marvelous grace.