Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: SELF-CONTROL (12/09/21)
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TITLE: Flying Debris | Previous Challenge Entry
By Tammy Ortung
12/16/21 -
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“I think I’m going to do a fish fry this year for Christmas,” my husband had said.
“Yum.” I loved his fish, but we hosted Christmas dinner every year and I wasn’t sure what everyone else would think.
“Mike wants to have fish for Christmas this year.” I told my sister a few days later. “What do you think?”
“Well, it's different,” she said with a skeptical look. “But we can have whatever you guys want.”
We dragged ourselves out of bed and went downstairs. Bonner heard the stairs creak and raised his head in greeting. I plopped on the floor next to him, crooning as I scratched his ears and cradled his head in my lap. After that morning ritual was done, I ambled into the kitchen, started coffee and made a quick scrambler with eggs, ham, potatoes and cheese. Finally, I sat down in the recliner to relax and enjoy my first cup of brew. Dinner wasn’t until two.
When we couldn’t put it off any longer, we sauntered into the kitchen to prepare dinner. I mixed cheesy potatoes, chopped salad, forked deviled eggs and prepped other sides, while Mike sliced the fish into smaller pieces, mixed the batter, and put it all in ziplock bags. When the doorbell rang, everything was ready to go.
“Merry Christmas, Grammy,” the three little ones called out simultaneously when I opened the door. I hugged each one, loving how their little arms felt as they squeezed my legs. As we made our way into the living room, I watched their eyes dart furtively toward the wrapped gifts under the Christmas tree and wondered how long they would last.
I wasn’t surprised when Mathias, our oldest grandson, asked mere seconds later, “Can we open our gifts now?”
“We’ll open gifts after we eat,” their mother said.
After dinner, sixteen adults and children squeezed into the living room. I carried three big bags full of more than a dozen wrapped presents and placed them in front of each grandchild. Three wide-eyed toddlers stared in awe for a few moments—then chaos ensued. They attacked each package like a dog with a chew toy. Clothing items were quickly tossed aside as they moved on to each new and more thrilling surprise. Wrapping paper floated through the air like loose feathers during a pillow fight. It was all over in minutes and the only thing that remained was a room blanketed in wrapping paper.
The fish fry was a hit, so we’ve continued the tradition for the past three years. And though their childish exuberance hasn’t been completely quashed, the kids continue to exhibit more self-restraint than on that Christmas.
When I think about it, their behavior was not so different from my own. In the beginning of my Christian life, I’d been in awe of God’s unfailing love, grace and mercy. I’d been grateful for the gifts I’d been given, but there were too many days when I didn’t pray and I figuratively tossed my Bible aside, just like the kids had those clothes. Before long, I felt like the clutter from my messed up priorities and poor choices was the only thing that remained. I realized that, while I had accepted Jesus into my heart, I hadn’t given Him control of my life.
One Sunday, I heard a song that spoke to me: “You are the potter, I am the clay. Mold me and make me …” I knew I wanted God to form me into the person I was predestined to be. I prayed and asked for his divine intervention. True to His word, my faithful Heavenly Father has abolished the disorder in my life and continues to change me one day at a time. Though there are moments when I’m still surrounded by the flying debris of my failed self-restraint, I know that God is with me. I am a masterpiece in progress and can trust God to deliver me—even from myself.
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