I am a Christian.
I’m also a father.
Sometimes I’m called “dad,” while other times it’s “daddy.”
And, I don’t like it when my daughters cry.
If you want to find out how spiritual I truly am at any given moment, just make my little girls cry. On the one hand you may discover that I have complete control of my tongue; that I’m able to “be angry and sin not”(Eph. 4:26); or that I’ve mastered the discipline of taking all things to God in prayer before I act.
On the other hand, I may disappoint you.
Sanctification is a process.
I’m not always nice.
I’m not always quick to forgive.
Sometimes I forget to Whom vengeance belongs (Rom. 12:19).
Sometimes I fail to take all thoughts captive (2 Cor. 10:5), leaving a few violent ones to bounce around in my head.
I want to “walk worthy” of my calling (Eph. 4:1; Col. 1:10; 1 Th. 2:12), but sometimes I trip.
You see, I’m a Christian, and a father,
But sometimes I’m just a dad.
And I don’t like it when my daughters cry.