Gra Geal Mo Feoil?

During the days preceding my wedding, one of the more difficult choices my wife and I made had to do with our wedding rings. I, having a love of all things Celtic and an Irish background, wanted something that represented our love for each other in a way that would be known to us and would stand out against other possibilities. She agreed. Thus, I spent two weeks scouring the internet looking for possibilities for Celtic wedding rings. Needless to say, there were plenty of options. I sent some to her, and we found one that we fell in love with. It was white gold (we think yellow gold is too flashy for us) and wide. On the ring itself is inscribed: Grá Geal Mo Chroí. Literally, Love of my Heart. We both oooed and ahhed as soon-to-be-married couples do and ordered them. A little over a thousand dollars and four weeks later, our wedding rings had been delivered. It was an amazing feeling.

Since then, I have grown to love my wife more and more. She completes me in ways that I never knew possible. There is never a dull moment with her; and if you knew my wife, you would agree wholeheartedly. However, as we progress down this road of life together, I am encountering day after day something that is evil, dark, and lurks in the wings of this grand stage. Every day when I wake up, it is there. Through every moment, motion, and mishap, it is there. It is foul, loathsome, unintelligible, and whiny. It squeaks like a mouse caught in a trap behind the refrigerator. It smells like there is a dead one right beside it. I hate it, but at the same time, I cannot seem to part with it. This thing, this it, is me.

I know, I can hear the conversations in my head. "You're too hard on yourself.... You can't hate yourself... You're too depressing... etc." Honestly, no. I do not hate myself in totality. However, there is a side, a part of me that I hate with every fiber that I can muster in my being. Its my second half, my other nature, my animalistic, unregenerate filth that occupies the other half of my brain. That part of me, yes I do hate, and I think I hate it rightly. You see, I know all the right answers. No, this is not a brag on myself blog. But I do. I know how to weasel and wiggle my way free of almost anything. Ask my mentor. He hates when I do not want to talk or reveal information because I will sidestep and be vague to get out of it. However, if asked directly, every wall falls down. On top of that, I'm studying Counseling. I know the right answers. But, I don't think the right answers are enough. To get to the real issue here, how does one honestly confront the degenerate filth that calls itself "flesh" without utterly destroying oneself?

Food for thought, I guess.

And, to stave off some thoughts, there is a difference between surrendering self and confronting self. For yes, the ultimate answer is to surrender one's self to the Lordship of Christ, living under His Word, and walking in submission and holiness. Again, I know the right answers. But to confront one's self, to resist. How does one resist one's self without destroying it?

It's like on Earthsea. Yes, I watched it. For Ged to destroy the Ged-beth, the evil creation that attached itself it his soul, he claimed it and called it his own. I do not think that process works in reality. Here's why. To embrace and claim one's flesh would be the equivalent of digesting a nuclear bomb. Unless one wanted to die an extremely big and colorful death, this action would be unwise. However, to confront and resist one's self without destroying the other part would be like stepping between the earth and the sky. It would be like walking west only to find out that somehow you are now going east. Impossible without something else.

So, knowing the right answers helps. But it doesn't solve the problem. What solves the issue is action. Thus, I write all this out and complicate the process for this simple phrase: Just Do It.

Thanks, Nike.