I sighed with satisfaction as the latest episode of my favorite television show ended. I’d become addicted to watching it every week. It’s not that I watch a lot of TV, but this show had me hooked. It was an ongoing drama, carried on from week to week. Like a soap opera, nothing was neatly tied up in a one-hour time slot.
A week or so later, I heard my Life Coach telling me I needed to be more careful about what I watched on television. Mind you, the show wasn’t violent, it didn’t have questionable language, but most of the characters engaged in all kinds of sexual behavior. No better or worse than other shows on prime time. Why was my Life Coach trying to ruin my fun?
I tried ignoring the advice. I must have heard wrong. Surely that was the enemy wanting to trip me up.
Then I tried reasoning. Come on, it’s not that bad. It doesn’t affect my life in a negative way.
This morphed into downright rebellion. “I’m going to watch it anyway.” That worked for a few weeks, until my Life Coach recruited help in the form of one of his assistants, AKA my pastor. The sermon was about giving everything to God. My Life Coach must have been sitting behind me because I heard Him whisper, “Are you listening?”
Well, shoot. When you pull out the big guns, I guess I better sit up and pay attention.
“Fine,” I muttered. “I won’t watch it anymore.” If I were twelve years old again, I’d have stomped off to my room and slammed the door.
It’s now a few weeks later. True to my word, I haven’t watched that particular TV show. Has my life changed? Am I now more holy, more spiritual? I wish I could say yes. But nothing’s changed. At least outwardly. But I’m sure my Life Coach knows what’s best for me. Even when I don’t agree. Even when I can’t see the point. I must believe he knows more than I do. After all, He’s the coach.