It’s quiet in my house right now as I write this post. Eerily quiet. My husband is still at work and my sons are playing at the neighbor’s house. All I can hear is the hum of the dishwasher, the click from the ceiling fan and my fingers hitting the keys on my laptop. And if I sit real still, I can also hear my thoughts. Sometimes my thoughts scare me. I’d like to be able to reassure you that my thoughts are always godly, always pure, always right. That I have good intentions followed by good actions. That when I wake up each morning and hit the pillow each night, I can honestly say that I have done right by my God, my family, my country and my friends. But I’m human, right? Right. I’m definitely not proud of the thoughts that enter and are often entertained in my head some days. I am thankful that there isn’t some camera that plays my thoughts on a big screen saying, “Cindy Beall is a farce. Don’t listen to her.” Because although I’m sinful and often do and say things that don’t bring honor to God, I do desire it. It’s just that sometimes, I desire to gratify my flesh more. Oh, I don’t really like to admit that but when I choose to do things that I know are bad for me there is no other way to describe it: I am choosing the flesh. But right now, I’m just sitting here. Putting my heart out on “paper” for you to read when this entry posts. I know I’m not alone in this fight against my thoughts. Which leads me to why I wrote this in the first place. You are not alone in this fight with your thoughts either.