A while back, I saw a plethora of memes and tee shirts with sayings that started out, “Forgive me for what I said when I was . . . .” The sentence finished in various ways, “hangry” and “hormonal” being the two I saw most.
We all know those situations when we’re not at our best–when we’re hungry, tired, or stretched to our limits. When hormones are raging. When in traffic jams. When someone else is short with us. For an introvert, it may be when they’ve been in social situations for hours and just want to get back to the quietness of their rooms.
It’s good to take these things into account when interacting with others. When a toddler is having a meltdown in the grocery store because errands have taken too long and he’s hungry and tired, a lecture on discipline isn’t going to do the trick. If a husband comes home frustrated over a situation at work, that may not be the best time for a sensitive heart-to-heart discussion. When a woman is in the last throes of labor, we understand she has a lot going on physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, and she may say things she usually wouldn’t.
While we give grace to others, we need to give grace to ourselves as well. Someone has said that sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is take a nap. It’s not self-indulgent to take care of whatever the underlying problem is.
In fact, I have always been touched by how God dealt with Elijah. In 1 Kings 18, Elijah has a showdown with the prophets of Baal. They’re to set up a sacrifice to their god and ask him to answer by fire. Elijah does the same. Nothing happens to the sacrifice for Baal, though they pray and cry and even cut themselves. But Elijah has water poured over his sacrifice three times, and even still, God sends fire that burns up the sacrifice and dries up the water.
But then in chapter nineteen, Queen Jezebel threatens Elijah’s life. He flees a day’s journey into the wilderness and asks to die.
It’s significant that before God even begins to deal with Elijah, He allows Him to sleep for a while and then sends an angel with food and drink. He took care of the prophet’s physical needs before talking with him about what was going on in his heart.
And sometimes we need to do that with ourselves and others.
However . . . there’s a difference between taking care of physical and emotional needs and being presumptuous. If I am “hangry,” I need to get something to eat as soon as possible, but that doesn’t give me a right to lash out at everyone in my path until I do.
If I am over-tired, I need to rest as soon as I can. But sometimes there is no rest in sight. That doesn’t mean I am justified in being short-tempered with people. It just means I need grace even more to carry on.
I used to wrestle with how in the world to be civil, much less nice to people, when hormones were raging. I’ve known women whose whole households (and in one case, the whole church) were turned upside down during their time of the month. There are things that can help, and we need to understand hormones are real factors. But we don’t abandon all self-control and just give way.
I almost titled this post, “There are no exception clauses to being filled with the Spirit” or to holiness. But I thought that might sound a little harsh. It’s true, though, that the Bible doesn’t say “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 3:22-23)–except when you’re over-tired. Or “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3)–except when you’re hormonal.
In one of Amy Carmichael’s books, in the midst of her own health problems, she wrote:
This prayer was written for the ill and for the very tired. It is so easy to fail when not feeling fit. As I thought of them, I also remembered those who, thank God, are not ill and yet can be hard-pressed. Sometimes in the midst of the rush of things it seems impossible always to be peaceful, always to be inwardly sweet. Is that not so? Yet that and nothing less is our high calling. So the prayer is really for us all.
Before the winds that blow do cease,
Teach me to dwell within Thy calm;
Before the pain has passed in peace,
Give me, my God, to sing a psalm,
Let me not lose the chance to prove
The fulness of enabling love,
O Love of God, do this for me;
Maintain a constant victory.
Before I leave the desert land
For meadows of immortal flowers,
Lead me where streams at Thy command
Flow by the borders of the hours,
That when the thirsty come, I may
Show them the fountains in the way.
O Love of God, do this for me;
Maintain a constant victory.
I don’t always think in terms of constant victory. Do you? My first reaction is, “I’m only human.”
I am only human. But that’s not an excuse to sin when circumstances are more trying than usual. It just means I need God’s grace even more.
That passage in 2 Peter goes on to say, “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire” (2 Peter 1:3-4).
We have God’s Word, His “precious and very great promises” by which we know Him and fellowship with Him. We have the example of Christ, who resisted Satan’s temptations in the wilderness when He was more hungry and tired than we’ll ever be (Matthew 4:1-11). We have the Holy Spirit dwelling within us. We have “all things that pertain to life and godliness” through “His divine power!”
That doesn’t mean we paste on fake smiles and constantly say “Everything’s fine” when it’s not. We can be honest about our struggles while still seeking God’s grace in them. I think of people like Joni Eareckson Tada and Elisabeth Elliot who have been transparent and real about what they’ve gone through yet inspire us by their responses.
God’s grace covers us when we fail. But He also gives grace not to fail when we seek it.
I hope you understand I am not trying to heap guilt on anyone or expect perfection. I write not as one who has mastered these things, but as one who needs these reminders. There is room in the Christian life for lament, anguish, and pouring out the depths of our hearts. Our Father “knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust,” and “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him” (Psalm 103:13-14).
But in our trials, may our heart’s desire be, “Let me not lose the chance to prove The fulness of enabling love.”
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