Cookies

Cookies. We love ‘em. We all know their names. And whatever your treat of choice, you’ve seen it, at the end of the grocery isle, eye level, in a bright package.

I know a guy whose job was to put wonderful things there. When they rearrange groceries shelves, it’s as much getting you in front of it as making you search a little longer, so you’ll find whatever else they put at the ends. He would never admit to it, but I have my suspicions.

Milk. Eggs. Butter. I didn’t come for cookies, but there they are. Quiet. Familiar. Even friendly. A moment, a glance, a scent of something sweet. Not quite wrong, but not right either.

I tell myself I’m not there for that.
I’m just passing through.
But I linger.

I don’t pick it up. I just read the box, remember and wonder if they are still as sweet.

A soft thread of curiosity pulls a little tighter.
Shadows shift, ever so slightly.

I used to think temptation was avoiding something obvious, but now I know it’s standing a little too long in the aisle. They say never go shopping when you’re hungry, or tired, or both. You might end up with a basket full of things you don’t need.

I turned away.
Not out of fear or shame.
I just know the aisle.

I know how innocent things grow heavy in the quiet. And how my heart doesn’t jump in, it drifts.

So, I choose distance over indulgence. There’s a big difference between strength and being just close enough not to fall.

Jesus didn’t avoid temptation; He spoke Truth to it. He was hungry, he was tired, and the tempter challenged Him to turn stones into bread.

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” … “Away from me Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve Him only.’” Matthew 4:4, 4:10

The cookies were still there, just not quite as shiny.

But He said to me, “My Grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” …  2nd Corinthians 12:9

Well, it must be getting close to perfection on my account.

It’s not the cookie’s fault, or the one who put it there. It’s lingering long enough to wonder if I can afford the calories.

Spoiler alert. I can’t.

Lord, please guard my heart. Not because it’s failed over and over, but because You say it’s worth protecting.

Amen …