Welcome to Paul Tripp's Wednesday's Word podcast. I'm Dalton, a member of the Paul Tripp

Ministries team. Join me each week as I read aloud Paul's popular Wednesday's Word devotional.

You can subscribe to our email list to receive this devotional straight to your inbox each week,

or you can read online at paultrip.com slash Wednesday, or on Facebook,

Instagram, and the Paul Tripp app. This week, Paul reflects on a personal parenting failure

that became a powerful reminder of our calling to speak as ambassadors for Christ.

Here's this week's Wednesdays' work.

Back when I had teenage sons, which is now many years ago, I went into one of their rooms one night to say hello and discuss some scheduling arrangements that needed to be made

for the weekend. I knocked on his door, walked into his room, and encountered a scene of total destruction.

I don't know how he found his clothes.

I think all of them were on the floor at the same time.

Or how he found his bed to sleep.

A corner of it stuck out from under the rubble.

Everywhere I looked, I saw textbooks, shoes, magazines, CDs, skateboard parts, and a host of other

unrecognizable objects. My anger and frustration were immediate. He greeted me warmly, and I let my words fly.

I forgot all about saying hello or asking him about his day. Instead, I went into a tirade on the

condition of his room and how I was sure that it tirade on the condition of his room and how I was

sure that it mirrored the condition of his life, which was not true. I angrily reminded him of how

hard I worked to provide him with the things he had strewn about everywhere. I asked him what it would be

like if his mother and I kept the whole house that way. I lectured on and asked questions. Questions

I didn't give him any time to answer because they weren't really questions. I was just venting. I told him I didn't know how he could stand being in the room the way that it was, but I knew I couldn't. I told him that it better be cleaned up quickly, and I left. I'm sure my son was so grateful that God had given him Paul Tripp as his father that evening.

I walked down the hallway and the convicting grace of the Holy Spirit hit me like a ton of bricks.

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