One of the few movies that I like is Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility. It does a marvelous job comparing two sisters with two different ideas of love. The younger sister is controlled by her emotions and feels superior for having "deep feeling." The older sister is more reserved. She feels deeply; however, she is not rash, and her emotions are ruled by self-control rather than passion. It is a great case study. While the story is purely fiction, it perfectly sums up the common outcomes of choices based on passions versus self-control.

Without doubt, somebody will read this and send me a letter saying that God gave us emotions and how dangerous it is to "bottle up our feelings until they blow." I am not disputing that God gave us emotions. I am disputing the idea that we are to be ruled by our emotions. Not only that, but I will go so far as to submit that emotions themselves can be tailored and shaped and changed. We can control how we feel. The things that we exercise and feed will grow. If we feed the feelings of disappointment, they will grow. Generally they will grow into bitterness, anger, and rage. If we feed impure romantic feelings, they will grow. Affairs, adultery, perversion—they all start somewhere. If validity is given to these feelings, rather than stopping the idea cold in its tracks, the seed will grow. And don't be deceived; we most definitely can stop wrong ideas when they start floating around in our heads. 2 Corinthians 10:5 tells us to take every thought into captivity to the obedience of Jesus Christ. If it is wrong, stop thinking about it. Stop feeding it and it will starve to death.

My sister and I used to meet with a friend who was heavily controlled by her emotions. She had a hard life and was prone to public outbursts of blind rage. It was embarrassing. There were times she would stand up in the restaurant we were dining in and begin seething and swearing and ranting like someone completely out of control. We began meeting with her in less crowded places. One time, while we were at a park with her, she began another one of her rants, and my sister and I told her to stop. We said, "Listen, just stop right now. Close your mouth and stop screaming." She looked incredulous. Very dramatically, she crossed her legs and sat up very straight, and with a haughty look she said, "Fine. I'll just sit here like this, just like a plastic mannequin. Is this what you think I should do?" She sat there in silence for a few minutes pretending to be a statue. It looked ridiculous, but it was better than her ear-piercing, foul-mouthed yelling. And then we told her, "What you are doing right now is practicing self-control. See? You just proved that you are able to control yourself." She was surprised when she realized that she had the power to stop. Regardless of how she felt, she did not have to express it. Some things are most definitely best left unsaid.

Despite what the American culture preaches, Love is a choice and even joy is a choice—just as much as obedience is a choice. Sometimes I don't feel like homeschooling, I don't feel like reading the Bible, or the idea of pleasing my husband is laughable. My heart doesn't tell me to do the dishes, smile at my kids when I am in a grumpy mood, or speak kindly when my aunt tells me I look like I've gained a few pounds (in that instance, my heart said, "find something heavy and clunk her in the forehead"). We open the door to misery if we buy into the lie of "following our heart." And our children will battle with self-control if they are allowed to exercise their "feelings" on a regular basis. They don't want to leave the park, so they throw themselves down and whine. They don't want to eat their green beans, so they cry and kick the side of the table. Their brother takes their favorite plastic ninja, so he knocks him in the head with a duffle ball bat. The sister is annoyed, so she snaps at her little brother for talking to her. These examples all stem from letting ourselves and our children "express our feelings." But it is absolutely possible to have a family who control themselves. They're rare, but they do exist. I've been around these families, and I generally go home embarrassed and humbled—but still inspired.