Bombarded

It was simple really. My family was strolling through the electronic's section at our local Wal-Mart, and, I just quietly observed, all the sound and movement around me. TVs on my right blared sound and movements as football players hustled across the field, 15 or so laptops sat lined up with a spokesperson displayed on the screens for each device, talking about what it could do. The music section loudly proclaimed its newest albums. The gaming section protruded sounds of guns, hoorays, and motors. And all about were people mingling and talking about the latest this, and the best that. Later in the toy section, there were these walkie-talkies designed to look like I phones. And up at check out, magazines were covered with classic "he said, she said, what?!" stories. As we left I saw posters displaying passionate goals. Both in love and war. Adorable little girls stand outside with boxes upon boxes of the most tempting cookies. Or charity groups selling homemade lemonade.

I don't get overloaded easily. So that's not how I was feeling. But I was definitely feeling bombarded.

BOMBARDED:

: to subject to the impact of rapidly moving particles

I'll be very real and open with you. I felt bombarded the other night, because for over a year now, those noises, sounds, voices and influences have slowly mixed with the voices that I need to be hearing. When all the sudden you can't tell up from down (a bit of spiritual vertigo), you feel bombarded. Only I didn't realize that these other voices had begun infiltrating my mind and heart until recently. But now I recognize it, and I'm able to do something about it. As I thought back on the many influences that one simply cannot avoid, I was able to visualize what had been happening in my heart. I had become numb to those sounds. Standing in the electronic department, not one person looked around with the face of "I'M GOING CRAZY ITS SO LOUD!" It was normal for so many sounds to be hurled at us. My heart had gotten used to hearing white lies. I had begun to believe that riding on my parents faith was enough. Until literally one day, I woke up and realized, I may be a Christian, but it has to be mine. All those voices I had heard about it "being enough" should have been a caution, a warning. But I had gotten used to hearing it, that I was so bombarded with it, that it was normal. No one ever outright told me "Oh, your parents are good Christians; you're fine!" But comments like, "Well you're better than a lot of people" or "You're a good enough Christian" began to sink in slowly.

If I can point out, I have been informed on numerous occasions by friends who want to defend their musical entertainment provider, that Katy Perry, Justin Beiber, and Miley Cyrus have all been "raised in Christian homes" Ok. Cool. I hope that means something to their parents, but it has meant nothing to the way they're living their lives now. I'm not saying none of them are believers, that's not my place, and I do not know their hearts. But they do not display the fruits of the Spirit, nor a lifestyle pleasing and holy and acceptable. They got to Hollywood, and they became bombarded with the lives they were expected to live!

We don't escape those expectations; we just get them in smaller doses over a longer period of time. My life began displaying the obvious influence of the bombardment I was receiving.

I'm so thankful, for Godly parents, who point out to me that they see me stumbling. And that encourage me, to drown myself in the Word, so I can learn how to drown out the sounds that bombarded me.

I encourage you. Look out for what's bombarding you. It might be different for you. Maybe it's a blog you're reading, or a book. Or even a good movie you like, where an underlying point has slowly changed your view (this has happened to me as well) Keep your guard up. Watch out for how you're being bombarded, and prepare for combat. We are already victorious in Christ. But be ready, so others may see, and glorify our Father.

~Madalee