Harden Not Your Heart

Talk about a hard heart; this is a paperweight!

If you remember your Old Testament (or the Torah), you will recall that Pharoah's heart was hardened over Moses' request that he let God's people go--release them from slavery.

There's an extreme of the hard heart, and well, as we also know Pharoah and the entire Egyptian nation paid for that foolish sin. The idea of a mere mortal taking a position against the Lord God of Hosts--well talk about chutzpah! And not the good kind.


And believers today, of which I count myself as one, are guilty of hardness of heart--oh, maybe not so obvious as that of Pharoah, but just as deadly, and perhaps easier even to rationalize, day in and day out.


We become hard of heart over seemingly small things and ordinary cncounters with the people in our lives. I do anyway. Been hurt by anyone lately? When it happens to me,  I pride myself that I have forgiven, but in fact, I get these little fantasies in my head whereby the transgressor will be exposed and I will be vindicated. And the circumstances of my vindication are dramatic and just a little this side of morally gnarly. I become cold in these ruminations. And me, a Christian. Did the Christ do that sort of thing? He did quite the opposite. For every wrong done to Him, he held more love for those who inflicted upon him. His heart softened for those least deserving. If I profess to be a follower, then why do I so easily justify the opposite attitude?


It shows up in really minor moments, this hardness. Ever have someone in your life who is, well, a bit of a pain? Timing is always off. They catch you on the way out to some important appointment, and though you say, "I'm just going to an appointment" they have no awareness and engage in long tales of trivia or woe? So, there you are, unable to tell them how thoughtless and clueless they are, because they will be hurt at the fact posited in less than chartiable terms. You stew. You say, "I shall avoid this person henceforward." And you go cold in your righteousness. Or people who always have an opinion about what you should or should not do, and you have not asked for advice? I go downright icy with these dispensers of subjective wisdom, no matter that in many cases their own hearts are without guile.


Help people sometimes? Sure you do. But sometimes people demand more. And a few say that you did not do enough.  And you say what? "I shall never help anyone again?" And what if you do get "taken", as it were. Ever happen? Sure it does. Do you distrust the next person in need? That seems like hardness of heart to me and I understand how it could happen, a kind of "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me" sort of challenge.


It even has become difficult to offer help. Volunteer for anything. With fear of suits being so heightened, you have to fill out multi-page applications and jump through more hoops than for a paid job. My inclination of late is to say, "Never mind, you say you want the help but I have to prove to you I am worthy of helping you?"  I can feel the hardness developing. Oh, there are good reasons for what they do, health, or criminal records, etc., but man what a way to turn off good will.

There are days that I think, "I'm never going out. I'm never talking to anyone, and as soon as someone says, 'can I run something by you' I'm running to another town."  It can't be good.   

I guess, right now, all I can do is pray that when I feel the hardness coming on I remember that I must fight it, that to give in is to give the devil his due, and that's the last thing I want to do.