Morning and evening are joyous when I worship my Lord. Some days I put off my morning worship time until later, sometimes because I ageed to meet someone or made an early appointment. Recently, for a few consecutive days I delayed my morning worship because I wanted to read "the news."
I rationalized my selfish choice in this way: God dosn't care what time of day you worship Him as long as you worship Him. That spat of unadulterated selfishness and rationale were not new to me, but something else was.
As before when I'd gone through this period, I knew in my heart my reasoning was false. What I was doing was making my desires more important than God. I'd been down this road and here I was again. I recommitted myself to sticking to my specified time of morning worship. That decision was not the end of it, though. A few mornings ago I put off doing something else until later. I knew what I should do, but this other voice, in cavalier assurance, lulled me into doing what I wanted to do instead.
I reflected on that assuring voice and how easily I allowed it to persuade me. For the first time I understood it to be from Satan, the great deceiver. Deftly he had argued as if for me. He knew what I wanted and made it easy for me to put myself first and not for the first time.
Where is he when the regrets come? We know that answer.
I finally understood that that assuring voice disguised as my wisdom was not of me at all. For the many years I'd heard it and followed it as if it were, I now knew I had to be wary of it, of its subtle influence. I could make no mistake about it. It was evil whispering in my ear. Such a harmless voice, too. So assuring that nothing bad would come of my choice.
That's how evil works. And even though in the big scheme of things, it seems as if nothing bad ever really happened, how many regrets have I accrued because I didn't want somebody telling me how to live my life? Because I wanted to do it my way? Because I had the latest expert advice? Because everybody (fill in the blank).
Who is there when the regrets come? God, of course.