Thinketh maketh the woman

 

Wednesday, 19 September 2018

Thinketh maketh the woman

Hephzibah is the perfect place to take ones thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ.

Why?

 

Because several million times a day in response to a look, a word, an action, a thought will enter the stage of one’s mind and stop midway. The thought usually of the lying variety, will take a deep breath and begin a soliloquy that could bring tears to the eyes of the most hard hearted person.

“Oh that is not fair,” it wails.

Within a very short time hearing the distress call another thought enters the stage and then there are two whinging and moaning and complaining.

Before one knows it there are hundreds of thoughts giving the performance of their lives all over the stage of my mind. They are such drama queens. Each trying to outdo the other. Naughty un Christlike thoughts vying for attention and approval.

And the clamour! One surely cannot hear oneself think for the cacophony.

The solution is found in being alert and diligent. The second the thought starts moving towards the stage lasso it and drag it away. In its place start sending thoughts that are true, noble, right, pure lovely admirable excellent and praiseworthy.

It is especially important to take thoughts captive because what we think affects the way we feel and the way we feel affects the way we speak and act. Nipping thoughts in the bud that are likely to make me feel  grumpy offended disappointed or resentful is very important. If I entertain them next minute I could easily say something or do something that I will have to ask forgiveness for.

I do not mind having to ask forgiveness but I would prefer it if I did not need to.

Last but not least

 

Sunday, 23 September 2018

Last but not least

This weekend has been a time of lasts. Last speaking time. Last wander around  my favouritism market.

Last naan at my favouritist restaurant. Oh last naan nearly turned into a disaster. The restaurant was very busy. But kind dada directed me to a table and brought a menu. I decided just to eat naan bread and a thumbs up.

After a while I could not remember if I had ordered a butter naan or plain naan. So as dada went past I said, "Butter naan dada?". From his reaction I realised he thought I was saying,"Where on earth is my butter naan."

He shook his head but reappeared shortly with a butter naan. It was a little bit cold which was unusual. Then as I ate it I  thought it was a little bit burnt. When I turned it over it definitely was burnt. Maybe it was a reject and he had given it to me to shut me up.

I could not allow my last naan to be a bad experience so when he went past again I said," Dada naan khub kharap." (Big brother this naan is very bad.)
"Kharap?" he replied.
I nodded.

Soon he came back with a naan was so hot I had to eat it with my knife and fork. It was up to the usual high standard of naan par excellence.