Flag on the play
God has to save me daily. Sometimes I can get through an attack with the things he has taught me to do through the past, like having an Internet filter or calling a friend. But sometimes he saves me through ways that I don't see coming.
Today, i was beaten. It was as if I had called on option play, but the opponent had sniffed it out. Let's say my receiver downfield was my buddy Ronny the Bruce, who I called to try to take my mind off the temptation. Let's say my pitchman was my internet filter, but it's just so darn easy to turn that thing off.
Yesterday, when I was in Nashville, I received a spam e-mail at my other blog. It was supposedly from a woman I had never met, but she was super hot. I could tell from the convenient photo she sent along with the message. She was a model, and invited me to do a search on this modeling Web site. Oh, and she was looking for a man to date — that bullshit was insulting. Anyway, I got to thinking about that e-mail and how cool it would be to search for her on that Web site to see what I could see. Who knows? Maybe it would get my motor running enough to go venture other places. And my filter would already be down, because I can't get to my other blog at home because it is a "chat" site, and my filter blocks it. (I blog at work, if you must know.)
Well, after calling The Bruce, and after disabling the filter, I went to the other blog only to find that I had deleted the e-mail when I received it. So there was no model to search for, and my bout was over. It was as if I had been stopped on fourth down, only to find a flag on the play. The opponent had been playing with 12 men on the field, and the 10 extra yards not only gave me the first down, but it put me in range for the game-winning field goal.
Today God saved me with setting good habits. Because I deleted the junk when it came in, I was spared later.
Today, i was beaten. It was as if I had called on option play, but the opponent had sniffed it out. Let's say my receiver downfield was my buddy Ronny the Bruce, who I called to try to take my mind off the temptation. Let's say my pitchman was my internet filter, but it's just so darn easy to turn that thing off.
Yesterday, when I was in Nashville, I received a spam e-mail at my other blog. It was supposedly from a woman I had never met, but she was super hot. I could tell from the convenient photo she sent along with the message. She was a model, and invited me to do a search on this modeling Web site. Oh, and she was looking for a man to date — that bullshit was insulting. Anyway, I got to thinking about that e-mail and how cool it would be to search for her on that Web site to see what I could see. Who knows? Maybe it would get my motor running enough to go venture other places. And my filter would already be down, because I can't get to my other blog at home because it is a "chat" site, and my filter blocks it. (I blog at work, if you must know.)
Well, after calling The Bruce, and after disabling the filter, I went to the other blog only to find that I had deleted the e-mail when I received it. So there was no model to search for, and my bout was over. It was as if I had been stopped on fourth down, only to find a flag on the play. The opponent had been playing with 12 men on the field, and the 10 extra yards not only gave me the first down, but it put me in range for the game-winning field goal.
Today God saved me with setting good habits. Because I deleted the junk when it came in, I was spared later.
posted by Pack Time at 10:26 PM
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