"I Think I Can. I Think I Can."

   

I was reading the other day about battling our negative habits by working on their positive counterparts.  For example,  we can practice humility in order to "overcome the tendency to desire to be the center of everything or to always want to be receiving praise and acknowledgement. We can also practice serenity in order to avoid hastiness.  In this way, the interior struggle becomes more effective and attractive." (In Conversation with God)  It is easier to pursue a good in our lives than it is to root out the bad. Josemaria Escriva said that "The tendency of the soul towards good is greater than that towards the avoidance of evil."  We naturally desire the good, so we are more likely to pursue it. 

   I found this idea particularly interesting because either way you slice it, you are working towards the same end, the attainment of the good and the rooting out of the bad; both are necessary in the pursuit of holiness. But, when we focus upon the bad, rather than the good, it is much harder to make ourselves do something as we easily grow discouraged.We are much more likely to grow despondent and to lose hope as we focus entirely upon our own faults. To give a poor example, when I go for a run, if I think, "I have gained weight, so I need to run," it is sometimes hard to maintain the energy to keep running as I feel annoyed with myself. But, if, instead, I think, "I want to be thin, I want to be thin," then my motivation stays strong and I am able to run a lot further.

   I love to read classical children's stories to my children, except for The Little Engine That Could---which, by the way, was written in 1930. I found that interesting.  Anyway, I don't love the book because the repetitiveness is slightly exhausting, however, that book is a good example of what I am trying to say.  Two of the trains that are asked to take the toys, and dolls, and good things to eat, over the mountain to the little boys and girls (do you see what I mean?) have two opposite responses.  One says, "I cannot. I cannot. I cannot." in despair, and returns to the roundhouse.  The other, as we all know, says, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." and of course, she does.

   This holds true when we think about the sin in our own lives. We can either recognize our sins and allow that recognition  to lead us to despair and self-contempt, or, we can recognize our own sin but, rather than despairing, allow it to lead us towards joy. That joy comes from the knowledge that God loves us beyond comprehension and, no matter how sinful I have been in the past, He Will (and Wants to) forgive me, and will save me.  I need not despair because this isn't up to me. I cannot do this alone, but the joy comes from the knowledge that I don't have. In fact, I'm not even suppose to try.