Discouragement is a liar that roams the world looking for souls to bury, long before the life is over. It lures its victims into a warm, cozy den of self pity and resignation. It stalks us in our weakest moments of loss and disappointment, offering sweet, soothing words for the aching soul.
It’s just not fair, is it? Poor thing, you look so tired. Why don’t you stay awhile? It offers a cup of pity that seems to ease your pain.
A little while later, as you drift into a hazy death, you hear faint knock on the door. You try to rouse but the poison of sympathy has set in, and you’re unable to open your eyes. You can’t shake the intoxication, and all you want to do is sleep.
The rapt at the door becomes louder, a rowdy argument erupts and then you hear the violent upturning of furniture and things shattering as they crash to the floor. You hear a loud Thud! and moments later you smell smoke and hear the crackling of intense heat.
You fear the intruder will come after you, but you can’t move or hide.
You start to panic as you feel a gentle, firm tugging on your sleeve, urging you to awake. Wake up! Get up! It’s not too late!
You finally open your eyes and realize it’s not discouragement pulling at you. It’s hope. And it’s set the place on fire.