When Guilt Speaks Louder Than God

Yesterday, something happened...

Omolaye and I agreed that during our fast, we would not talk on the phone. We would only chat, and our conversations would revolve around Olódùmarè.

Later that day, she called.

Nothing terrible happened.

There was no argument.

There was no sin.

Yet something inside me became restless.

I carried a guilt that stayed with me for hours.

Not because she had done anything wrong.

Not because I had intentionally broken the fast.

But because my conscience kept asking,

"Did I listen to the Spirit?"

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Then something occurred to me.

Sometimes guilt is useful.

Sometimes it is not.

There is a guilt that calls us back to truth.

There is another guilt that traps us in condemnation.

One leads us to repentance.

The other keeps us from peace.

The strange thing is that while I was worrying about whether I had disappointed Olódùmarè, I was no longer paying attention to Him.

My eyes had left Grandpa.

They had turned toward my mistake.

Then I asked myself,

Can guilt become another distraction of the flesh?

Can guilt demand so much attention that it replaces the very One we are trying to seek?

The purpose of our fast was to become more attentive to Olódùmarè.

Instead, my attention became fixed on myself..

After Omolaye and I talked about it, she understood my heart.

We found peace.

And with that peace came another lesson.

Maybe consecration is not about never stumbling.

Maybe it is about returning quickly when we do.

Perhaps Grandpa is not asking,

"Did you perform the fast perfectly?"

Perhaps He is asking,

"When your heart became troubled, did you come back to Me?"

That changed everything.

Maybe guilt should be a signpost...

not a home.

Guilt is quieter than rage.

Rage shouts.

Guilt whispers.

Yet both have the power to pull our attention away from peace if we allow them.