Belaboring Confession
July 27, 2017
If we could only extend the same grace to ourselves as we do others, we’d be in much better condition to journey the rough terrain of life.
I’ve walked with Jesus, and I mean genuinely walked with Jesus through some pretty intense s#!t. I’ve also walked with others trying to walk with Jesus through some pretty fierce s#!t. It’s interesting to me if I am honest through self-reflection at how much grace, wisdom, and truth I can impart to others without effort, but when it comes to myself— yeah, entirely different story.
I’m in a new season. A season that didn’t begin when my husband walked out seven years ago or when the divorce was finalized just two months ago. No, the season started about two weeks ago when the self-deception I had been living in (quite functionally on the outside, for the most part, I tell you) was rudely awakened by what felt like an instantaneous harvest of deep grief from an internal, unbridled preoccupied interest in self-preservation. It left me in a place of desperation to be free of this prison of pain. A very dear friend and matriarch of the faith once said to me, “You can’t rebuke a harvest” (referring to the consequences of sin). But I will tell you, at this moment, I was damn sure that I was going to take a proverbial scythe and massacre this harvest at whatever the cost.
The world teaches us to be true to ourselves. The Bible teaches us to die to ourselves. Suddenly the two collided in my own life, and there I sat, bewildered and wondering how the hell I got here. Me, someone who has devoted my life to God, to others. I, someone on a mission to share the hope of restoration and healing to the broken people God puts in my path. I, someone who loves Jesus and has seen His goodness, His miraculous gifts of mercy, grace, healing, and restorative reconciliation in the lives of others as well as my own. Me, someone who wrote a freaking book on hope. Here I was in a mud puddle of the illuminated reality that this radical grace and undeserved mercy didn’t transform me as I thought.
Facing the ugly truth that in my love for God and others, somehow, I forgot to love myself was excruciating. Agonizing because of the deep sense of hypocrisy I felt. Knowing that we can only love others to the extent that we love ourselves (Mark 12:31, Matthew 22:39). I found myself standing in the mirror and intently looking at the woman staring back at me, and I asked her: “Who are you?” “Who. Are. You?” Not what have you done, gained, or lost? Not Whom do you belong to? (As in a child of God.) Not, who do you love, or what is your calling, talents, or dreams? Not what do you know? But instead, WHO ARE YOU? And there I stood…until I had to walk away.
I don’t know!
I pondered this for two days. You have no idea how loud the thoughts in my head were for those 48 hours. I kept the television and radio off. I limited my conversations with people and spent these hours in my head and heart space. It’s a good thing mental health care peeps weren’t within earshot of the conversations I was having. I’m sure I’d be sitting in some mental hospital for observation.
It was late, and I climbed into bed, but I needed to get away from my thoughts to wind down. I decided to watch a movie I had purchased last year to support an independent film company. The movie is called “Brennan.” It is the story of Brennan Manning, produced by Color Green Films. I sobbed as I watched this man who had imparted such truth and wisdom to others about our amazing God live in a self-induced state of isolation and consequence. Crazily, it gave me so much peace. If I could see this man’s incredible worth, how could I not see my own? Brennan Manning’s words reminded me that “I am one radically loved by God” and that “God loves me unconditionally as I am, not as I should be.”
Who Am I? I am one radically loved by God. I want to view and live life through this lens. This has set me on a new path—a new season. Yes, I am one who God radically loves, and I need to love myself better.
So, if nothing else today, remember this. Because of Jesus, you are worthy of incredible love. You are worthy of radical grace and unmerited mercy. We know this for others, but have we understood this for ourselves? Truly? If we did, would we self-criticize? Would we self-doubt? Would we struggle with guilt and shame when we make mistakes? Those things that only serve as a distraction to the truth of who we are in Him- still imperfect and in many ways broken but assured of wholeness through Him, in due season. Would we self-medicate, which only leads us to false security and never fully knowing the One who endured it all so that we don’t have to? It’s easy to point others to the truth about how much they are loved (at least it is for me), but can we do that ourselves?
Do we?
If you do, you are where I want to be.
I’ll see you down the road.