On the topic of Trump’s recent guilty verdict, I have done a general fly over on the facts and details. I have listened to some brief commentary from both sides and a few sources. At the moment I have concluded that a discussion about how we think politically as individuals and as a collective is far more important and helpful for the long term health of the country.
The Passengers
On election day, we will vote for who we want to pilot this plane called America. My concern is more with the passengers than the pilot. How are we thinking during this process? How will we react when the votes are in? Can we approach each other, the challenges we face, the people we choose, and our own roles with a sound mind? The health of the country comes down to how well we manage our collective anxiety. What will it take for us to maintain a relative calm and thus make the best decisions? No elected official can do that for us. It will take healthy passengers, crew and staff to course correct where needed and help us fly well.
We all have a point of reference from our seat on the plane. Each of us have a personal foundation of knowledge, values, maturity and life experiences we bring to the moment. Part of my foundation is that I majored in Communications and Mass Media in school. We’re taught to be informed observers of media sources, identify bias, cross reference, look at different angles, separate facts from opinions, and so on. It helped me see the importance of our responsibility as individuals to think for ourselves, seek wisdom, and understand our sources well. I also bring a Christian worldview to the table which brings a unique set of assumptions, beliefs, and convictions.
With each election, I find myself re-examining myself, the events that have occurred, and the accumulation of information and observations I have made since the last term. I want to vote well. I don’t want to be on the wrong side of history. I don’t want to make decisions based on fear, anger, and on the hysteria of the masses. It is important for each of us to take a personal inventory of where we are, how we are informed and work on our self-awareness.
Uncertainty in Politics
When it comes to voting and politics, we all confront a degree of uncertainty. We want to be right with our ideas and opinions. We like decisions to be black and white. We want the facts we base our decisions on to be sourced from definitive places of truth, honesty, and integrity. We often don’t get that kind of certainty with politics and government and people. Particularly when it comes to people. Have you ever found out someone has been lying to you when you thought they were telling you the truth? We all have.
We often don’t know or recognize our own blind spots and echo chambers. Regardless of who we are, there is often a leap of faith we take when we go to the ballot box and cast our vote. That is why we value the checks and balances of the American system. That is why all parts of the plane, especially the passengers, must remain intact with a high degree of integrity regardless of the pilot.
It’s challenging to take a step back and examine ourselves, to work on self-awareness. Big decisions call upon us to draw from that the best we can and move forward with calm and courage. Our hope and prayer is that the plane will continue flying through the bumps and adverse weather conditions, regardless of who the pilot is both now and in the future.
When I was young I wanted to be good at Christianity. A good religious person works the system of Faith as prescribed. I understood that if you mark the right boxes on the to-do list and do them well then you’re a good Christian. I was overly self-confident and arrogant, relying on my own abilities and self-discipline to practice doing and being the person I thought would please God and bring success.
Thus far, I have tried to make God into a system or formula with some relationship in the mix. It wasn’t all false; I was really seeking him. And he continues to find me. Even while I’m lost and “doing it wrong”. In my own efforts, I figured if I practice the spiritual disciplines enough then I will get the results right. It’s sort of plug and play religious thinking. It’s an algebra problem. Solve for “X”. If you don’t get x right then figure out what you did wrong and try again.
Being a flawed human, there are endless possibilities of what I could have done wrong because I am imperfect. Plus the fact that my idea of what x should be is based on my own selfish, faulty assumptions and interpretations of the Bible and church life. X could mean success in the forms of prosperity, fame, comfort, book contracts, health, Christian converts, real estate, etc. If and when I achieve these things then I would assume I’m working the formula right and he is pleased with me.
But no, I’m too weak to run the entire gauntlet of steps needed to make the formula work. And so shame kicks in. There’s obviously something wrong with me. So maybe I should go into hiding until I get stronger and get the steps right. That’s what the greats do, right? They enter the desert, figure it out, God gives them strength and they emerge from their desert experience as Super Christian Heroes.
The truth is no one emerges from a real encounter with God wanting to be a Christian hero. Why? Because God is too much. Such an encounter usually involves a jarring life change. And so a real humility sets in. An overwhelming realization of my own limitations, inadequacies, and a painful awareness of my own deceitfulness and sin is burned into the soul, never to be forgotten. Since I cannot pretend anymore, the only option left is surrender. My own efforts and my own Christian algebra formula is an unsolvable equation.
“But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: ‘God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.'”
James 4:6
I’m forced to have a relationship with God where I have no more games and nothing left to hide or prove. It’s a total sense of horror at my own deception and very freeing at the same time because he forgives me and loves me, knowing everything about me. It’s both terrible and wonderful at the same time. It’s a terrible blow to the pride and sense of self-sufficiency I used to have. However, I’m not alone in my struggles anymore.
I don’t really like it because I’m not in control. I don’t get to create my reality to suit my tastes and preferences. I do like it because he is here with all of his peace and presence to shepherd and take care of my needs one day at a time. Throughout the New Testament, Jesus calls someone and says, “Follow me”. His disciples dropped their fishing nets and other occupations and agendas and followed him. After that, they were no longer in control of their day to day lives.
Put simply, it’s transitioning from “I’m not very good at this” to “he is very good at this”. Thankfully, his grace is sufficient for me. It hurts my pride and comforts my soul. What a wonderful, uncomfortable thing to admit I’m not very good at Christianity.
“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
I found my wounded self, emerging like a haunted shadow from the basement. My arrogant, religious self was too sick to go on. When I heard the cries of a child, I felt compelled to go unlock the basement door. There I was, looking at my younger self like Bruce Willis’s character in the movie “The Kid”.
I felt a tenderness and compassion toward him. I also thought he was the missing piece to my ongoing, prideful goal of Christian stardom. Little did I know, he would expose my deception after many hours of conversation. The hardest part was seeing my pride in it all. Then I realized that pride is probably the darkest and most dangerous of all deceptions in my life and in everyone else’s life. It keeps us alone, trying to fake our way through and perpetuates our self-deception. And we don’t even know we are doing it half the time.
Practically speaking, I did this work by joining a group. In a guided setting, I walked with my younger self through every stage of my life. From the circumstances surrounding my conception and birth all the way to my present stage of adulthood. And I shared everything in the safety of my trusted group, some of whom had done this before. In reality, this is too hard and painful to walk through alone.
As a child and young person growing up, so many difficult things happen to you. Without a good ally, someone who’s safe, healthy, wise, and mature you usually don’t know how to process the difficult and often traumatic events happening to you and around you. For me, I didn’t know how to reach out for help or risk telling a trustworthy person my secrets. You sort of survive, do the best you can with the pain and confusion, and just keep going. You don’t realize that you’re developing beliefs about yourself and about life that are often lies that become part of your identity and belief system moving forward. Then you wonder why growth isn’t happening in certain areas.
If you could go back in time and revisit these moments, even the darkest and most painful ones, would you do it? Would you go back and tell yourself the truth about what happened and correct any lies and false beliefs you developed in those moments? In the worst moments of your life? Would you speak truth, life, and affirmations to encourage yourself, knowing that somehow bringing truth into your past will bring peace and resolution into your present?
Would you go back and tell yourself the truth about what happened and correct any lies and false beliefs you developed in those moments?
I chose to do so. Figuratively speaking, I found my younger self locked away in a basement all alone. Hearing him out was very painful because he is an integral part of me whether I choose to acknowledge him or not. I had created an identity that suppressed his precious life because I thought he wasn’t good enough for people, not good enough for God, and not good enough for anyone else. Therefore, he wasn’t good enough for me. So I locked him away and tried to go and be someone else that seemed more acceptable.
The talks went well. They were terribly painful. When he cried, I cried. When he hurt, I hurt. He had lots of questions. We learned to work together to bring closure to those painful memories. The group I was in prayed for and witnessed our conversations and helped to identify lies I had believed that I needed to work through with my younger self. I needed their feedback to see things that I would not have seen by myself.
Those old deceptions were often my protections. They were painful false beliefs, but at least I was used to them.
It’s tough and exhausting doing this kind of work, but well worth it. Like clearing away a lifetime of debris and weight. And bringing dark, hidden secrets to the light for the first time. Oftentimes shame lives behind the fear of being exposed. But when I let the light in to see my shameful places, shame had to leave when I replaced it with heartfelt affirmations, grace, and mercy. I found new freedom. In large part due to my group’s support and encouragement.
There were many hard fault victories. As the child healed, I healed. I’m not used to this kind of freedom. It’s bewildering because many of my old belief systems and false identities are falling away. Those old deceptions were often my protections. They were painful false beliefs, but at least I was used to them. And in these moments moving forward I ask God who am I really? And what do you want me to do now?
Those are hard questions for someone who used to think I had it all figure out for the most part. But I know God is closer than ever before. He’s hard to see when I’m hiding behind the smokescreen of my own false beliefs and fantasies.
Would you go back and revisit yourself in all stages of your life if you could? Why or why not?
With this post, I want to review some of what’s been happening internally and preview where I would like to go next with this writing adventure. Let’s dive right into the deep end. That’s what we’re here for!
To review, I had emerged from a major place where I was an internally divided. There was my carefully constructed Christian facade where I would try to perform and pretend to be something I am not. Perform well and cover up was the name of the game. It was a self-constructed entity meant to hide my own fear and shame. Shame keeps repeating phrases such as “I’m not good enough” and drives the anxious heart to perfectionism. It says there is something wrong with me and it’s my fault and I have to fix it before I can feel worthy. Shame and fear can be terribly destructive if not dealt with in a healthy way. That is where I want to go next. Because that sounds like a good time, right? I am reading a book called “The Soul of Shame” by Curt Thompson. For whatever reason, I am wired to go where the pain is first. I want to get the hard part over with as soon as possible. Then we can live our purpose with more wholeness and joy.
As I mentioned, the journey started with exposing my false self who was covering my wounded self. I am learning about the role that shame plays to create this divided self. Shame has been at the root of all kinds of phobias, social anxiety, stunted growth patterns, self-sabotage, codependency and so on throughout my life. Other than that, no big deal right? And I’m not the only one. We are all impacted.
Shame keeps repeating phrases such as “I’m not good enough” and drives the anxious heart to perfectionism. It says there is something wrong with me and it’s my fault and I have to fix it before I can feel worthy.
Still a Christian?
If you have read my other posts on this subject, you may wonder if church has generally been healthy for me. Should I even bother with it? I have wondered that myself. But that is similar to telling a workaholic they should not go back to work. Work is still necessary to live, but the approach needs to change. A shift in identity is needed.
I concluded that even though church seems like a part of my neurosis, that doesn’t mean that Jesus is to be dismissed. Rather, I believe the opposite is true. Jesus is the source of all healing. The closer I am to him the more whole I become. My biases and opinions, including those from my church tradition, become transformed and integrated as my relationship with him grows. The more I know him the healthier I become. And I can pass that health along to my brothers and sisters at church and help bring healing there and beyond as I grow in him.
A couple of years ago I started praying frequently for more light. “More light Lord, more light.” It was a quote from a Charles Spurgeon sermon. As my recent blog posts have shown, he is answering that prayer with more light than I have ever wanted, but oh do I need it. The inner Christian hypocrite has been revealed for who he is. The wounded self in hiding has emerged. I am reintegrating as a person and moving forward in my healing and growing process. As Romans 12:2 says, “be transformed by the renewing of your mind”.
Jesus is the source of all healing. The closer I am to him the more whole I become. My biases and opinions, including those from my church tradition, become transformed and integrated as my relationship with him grows.
All is Grace
When I spend time with Jesus, the word grace takes on new meaning. The Christian definition of grace is best defined as “unmerited favor”. And we only learn grace by seeing and knowing God for who he really is. Grace requires that I own up to my profound state of brokenness and my inability to fix it. In light of grace, my newfound sense of vulnerability moves me towards a more complete dependency on God. Only with him is there enough light to dare opening and moving toward the most painful and broken places in my heart.
Grace gives me the freedom I need to grow. Out from under constant shame and guilt for who I am and what I have done. I am covered on all levels. There is no need to cover myself. And there is no need to hide from myself. My past, present, and future are exposed to the full impact of love.
“By realizing my inability to live up to the laws of life, I had reached the end of myself. I was a candidate for grace, for unmerited favor. I was a candidate for God to be for me and to give me things that I did not have on my own. I realized that I was “poor in spirit” and in need of God.”
“How People Grow” by Dr John Townsend and Dr Henry Cloud
At first, this is quite a shocking experience. My inclination is to run back into the familiar dark. In the dark, I wrap myself in blankets of fear and denial, trying to hide from the drastic change. It takes time for eyes to adjust to light. Like a person born without sight, I have just received major surgery to be able to see for the first time. I am not quite ready to remove all of the bandages covering my eyes. It has to be somewhat gradual. My brain is undeveloped and does not know how to process the new information. The old programming is still operating, though it is slowly changing. I am seeing things I have never seen before, and I am not ready to walk full speed into the new reality. It is both wonderful and terrifying.
The first things I notice are objects that are still somewhat in the shadows. My house is a mess. The luxury of my previous life of blind denial is that I couldn’t see the full extend of my own mess. It would have been too unbearable. Without the company of grace, the reality of my human condition is crushing. Before, I would pretend I have some measure of control. I could see what I wanted to see and deny the rest through my choice fantasies and rationalizations. I am a genius at fooling myself and building self-defenses.
The Christian facade gave me some parameters to work with. If I was disciplined and checked boxes a, b, and c, then perhaps I was doing well according to my self-evaluation. But it was never good enough of course.
Tell me, Where is it safe for a hypocrite to find grace? Insulate from all the shame Mental tombs hide the pain Until the rock rolls away
Fracture Initiate Integrate
No longer guarded Resurrection day
The very place where you are not supposed to be a hypocrite Is the only place left to go When you discover You are a hypocrite.
My anger towards God revealed my hidden, wounded self. He was hidden behind the performing perfectionist who can never be good enough.
“As we come to grips with our own selfishness and stupidity, we make friends with the impostor and accept that we are impoverished and broken and realize that, if we were not, we would be God. The art of gentleness toward ourselves leads to being gentle with others — and is a natural prerequisite for our presence to God in prayer.”
I dealt with my own weaknesses and inadequacies by creating an ideal image of myself. This would be the person I throw all of my energy into becoming. As a young athlete, I made it my goal to be a great basketball player. I poured hours of my life into developing skills and watching Michael Jordan. My approach to God was similar. I wanted to be a “great” Christian. My idea of this person I wanted to be did not always line up with Jesus’ definition of being great. Jesus calls for humility, putting others first, being a servant, and living sacrificially. My idea was to be all of those things and more with a lot of selfish motives mixed in.
From my perspective, the stars of the Christian game were pastors, speakers, musicians, and anyone who was on stage and could speak well into a microphone. They were the Christians who had “arrived” at the top. People admired them, talked about them, repeated what they said, bought their books and t-shirts, and tried to be like them. So, I figured that in order to be a great Christian, I needed to become one of them.
To be fair, many of these people are truly admirable, gifted leaders whom God has entrusted with a platform. As a kid, I didn’t realize that behind the scenes these people are regular human beings who have their own struggles. Sometimes they are living in terrible darkness that no one knows about. It was a different era before we knew phrases such as “mega-church” and “celebrity Christians”.
For example, the guy I quoted above, Brennan Manning was an incredibly gifted Christian writer and speaker who was in and out of treatment centers for alcoholism his entire life. His memoir, “All Is Grace“, was written on his deathbed and really shocked me at the time. I could easily accept that he “used to be an alcoholic”. You know, before he met Jesus. I assumed Jesus fixed him of course and he became a great Christian. In reality, Jesus walked with him in and out of treatment centers his whole life. These experiences helped him find the words that are so meaningful.
These days it’s rather common that a Christian leader is in the news for some kind of moral failing. I am grieved, but no longer shocked. Of course they are human. Of course they are broken. We’re all vulnerable, and we all need a healthy support system. No one has ever crossed the magic line into the realm of Christian perfection, nor will they.
Stumbling Home
From my early assumptions and expectations, I formed this idea of what a great Christian should be. What I ended up building as a result was quite a self-righteous, prideful, judgmental, critical, religious, angry and confused person. This is the fruit of someone who tries to make the outside look great while neglecting their internal brokenness. I don’t know that these qualities were/are completely obvious to those around me. But I’m sure they have been sensed in some way. Again, these attributes were the result of a constructed self that I presented to the world while desperately trying to hide the parts of me that are weak and wounded. This construction I find in myself continues to be replicated today just as it has throughout history. The hard part is, it’s almost impossible to help a self-righteous person see his own brokenness. Jesus spoke his harshest words for self-righteous people like me. Even so, he spoke out of love because he longs for hardened religious people to come out of hiding.
I could only fool myself for so long. And everything I wanted to be, I could not live up to. I tried to follow the Bible and do what everyone said I needed to do. It’s impossible. I have too many weaknesses, and my personal battles with anxiety and shame kept me from performing well. Thus, erupting into my current writing out of exhaustion and frustration. I have played the game as far as I could and failed. In the severe mercy of God, I find myself stumbling home. Jesus is responds most readily with great compassionate towards people who know they are broken like me.
The Divided Self Re-United
The shadowy, wounded self emerges. There he is, revealed in the light. Suspiciously I watch as he is embraced by the Father.
The change begins to invade my entire being. Like a virus slowly replicating. I find myself reintegrating. One self, the perfectionist performer. The other self, the shameful failure. A new sense of wholeness comes over me.
Return of the Prodigal Son by Rembrandt
Bringing the wounded and rejected self into the light is a kind of reunion. Now that I see you, I know who you are, and I know what I have done. You are me. I am learning to see you in the light of Jesus’ love. Without Jesus, I don’t know that I could love you or have the courage to go on this journey to find you.
In the light of his acceptance and forgiveness, I find the gentleness and grace to accept and forgive you. For being weak, broken. For having been born with the human condition. My high pressure career as a super Christian is over. What a relief to be given permission to be ordinary. Of course, no one is truly “ordinary”.
Here is a kind of beautiful and difficult reunion. My perfectionist, critical, judgmental self looks upon my imperfect, wounded, rejected self with a new kind of compassion. Along with compassion I am overcome with wonder and awe. This person is beautiful in his weakness. For in his weakness, there is a tender strength that I never appreciated before.
My formerly weak and rejected self looks back at the perfectionist performer who is critical and judgmental. I am leery of this ruthless performer I have created. Yet there is compassion growing for this person as well. This person tried to protect me and make life work for me. I have to learn to forgive him for being so hard on me.
The one self rejected. The other self manufactured in order to survive. They are both me. Both of them are walking into the light together. The work of reintegrating them is going to be a process. The challenges and pressures of life remain. And there are new challenges. I am used to living in my own deception. Coming into the light is a relief, and yet seeing myself more completely is rather shocking. Truth has set me free. With freedom comes new responsibility to continue growing. With the freedom of sobriety comes a process of recovery.
“When we are under the law- in our natural state- we feel that God is the enemy and that we get what we deserve. We naturally try to ‘earn’ life. We try to do whatever we think will get God to like us or whatever we think will solve our day-to-day problems. Thus, we are trying to ‘save ourselves’. We try to get God to not be mad, and we try by our own efforts to grow and resolve our issues. Yet (New Testament Apostle) Paul says that this way of living is the exact opposite of living according to faith and grace and that if we choose that law, we end up living out the law in real life. This is not just theology; it is exactly how people end up living out their real-life problems until they grasp the reality of grace.”
Thankfully, God is less of a haunting, critical presence and more of a friend who is also the King. His goodness and grace are the motivators that replace my fearful perceptions that used to drive me. It is time to learn what grace means for those of us who are in recovery.
Reader Questions: Feel free to respond to one or more of these in the comments section below. I look forward to any discussions.
What kind of identity have you created in order to deal with life and make yourself more presentable to the world around you?
What does the word grace mean to you?
“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.””
My anger towards God recently surfaced. I started writing out of this experience.
I never saw my shadow ’till I saw the light And now I need more light to drown it out I cannot bear that this should continue Nor can I bear that it should stop
The demands I place on myself are too much. Perfectionism tells me that no matter what I do, it’s never good enough. As a result, shame tells me there is something fundamentally wrong with me. When I agree, I project those beliefs onto God. He is constantly judging me. So I try to perform better to combat my own shame. And I project those beliefs onto people. They are constantly judging me. People, I can get away from temporarily. Myself, I cannot. God, I cannot.
I try to improve myself to combat my own shame. However irrational it sounds, somewhere along the way I have believed the lie that I must do the impossible in order to be acceptable: be perfect.
What takes over is a generalized and pervasive kind of performance anxiety. My behavior is dictated by my own perceptions of external influences. If I don’t measure up, God will hurt me. If I don’t measure up, people will hurt me. My own experience seems to confirm these ideas. Because it is impossible to meet my own and everyone else’s wants, needs, and expectations, I find myself being hard on myself when I fail. Why? Because I wonder what is wrong with me. I am ashamed of myself, I am afraid, and I don’t know how to fix my imperfections so that I am no longer afraid.
Shadow Boxing
In my developmental years, I dealt with this by creating a persona in order to play the role I had to fulfill. This isn’t my real self. He is someone I developed in order to successfully present myself to the world and to God. Everyone reaches this stage and to some degree creates their own character to deal with the challenges of life. Similar to creating a character in a video game, we choose our looks, weapons, and skills in order to create an identity that will survive and hopefully win. We intuitively know we are imperfect and that someone outside of ourselves will probably judge us and hurt us as soon as they find out. Every character we create is vulnerable.
One approach is to make myself acceptable to everyone as far as I am able. Another approach that is gaining traction in popular culture is to put myself out there and try to make everyone accept me as I am. Neither approach deals with the fundamental problem of a broken and wounded self. This is the self we encountered early in life when we began to experience disappointment and shame.
“It (self-hatred) begins by accepting the special value of the particular self called me; then, wounded in its pride to find that such a darling object should be so disappointing, it seeks revenge, first upon that self, then on all.”
The broken self gets dealt with in a number of ways, most of them ineffective at best and destructive at worst. For me, I put him in the background while I developed a more presentable person who, once perfected, will become successful and thrive in all areas where I am weak and enhance my strengths. It seemed like a worthwhile project at the time. Fake it ’til I make it? Sure, but what happens to the wounded self once I make it? How do I cope with the pressures of success? How do I cope with inevitable moments of failure? What do I do with that underlying fear that someday my weakness will surface and sabotage everything I have worked for?
Christian Disillusionment
Early in my childhood I became a Christian. With all of my normal human baggage I entered into a relationship with God through faith in Christ Jesus. I am grateful for that and still believe wholeheartedly. What needs to be unpacked is the way I have tried to use God in order to work on my pet project and enhance my public image. I wanted to not only be a good Christian, but I wanted to be good at Christianity in the same way I was good at basketball when I was younger. With lots of practice and focus, I would really do this well and gain some notoriety and favor from God and people. If I put in the work, God would enhance my ego, eliminate my weaknesses and really make me glow. Great plan!
And, with a little grooming from my church tradition, hyped up Christian youth camps, and the unique influence of Christian culture in the 90’s, I chose to believe that God would come through and make me something quite special. The result would finally be a comfortable life with enough money and acclaim to help me feel good about myself. These ideas became the “carrot on a stick” that I would chase for a long time. Again, my own ego and distorted perceptions are also responsible for misinterpreting my church experience.
I understand why people say Christianity doesn’t work for them. It doesn’t “work” for me either. What I mean is, whatever assumptions and expectations I had of myself and of God when I started this have not come to fruition quite the way I wanted. I couldn’t manipulate God or work the process to my selfish advantage. My Christianity was driven by self-centered motivations. I pursued a relationship with God with my own agenda, which really limits meaningful intimacy with God. Now, the difficult part is dealing with spiritual disillusionment and disorientation.
“The wrong asceticism torments the self: the right kind kills the selfness.”
The process of disillusionment over the years has been terribly painful. However, the more recent experience of seeing him work in me is rather surprising. It is still painful, but in a good way. The pursuit of a right relationship with God is now moving towards realizing what he wants from me, which takes priority over what I want from him. It is a kind of death to the self-centered orientation of my life. This movement actually helps me find compassion and healing towards my emerging shadow. Like the prodigal son, the wounded, angry, and rejected self is coming home to his loving heavenly Father.
“So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.”
Recently, I erupted with anger toward God. Beneath my anger I was feeling out of control. My eruption turned into a series of journal entries. Too honest. Too recent. Embarrassing. Can we just watch sports instead?
“Everyone of us is shadowed by an illusory person: a false self.. We are not very good at recognizing illusions, least of all the ones we cherish about ourselves.”
Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation
The Shadowy Figure Speaks
Somewhere behind my obsession with performing for God, a shadowy figure has emerged. This person is unknown to me until now. Wounded, bitter, and enraged. He is tired of the beating I give him. It appears I house a divided self: one who works desperately to please God and the other who has yet to know and rest in God’s true nature. The restless one erupts unexpectedly and painfully. Who is this strange person? He is me. He is hurting terribly. I should probably listen. I don’t really have a choice. The cat is out of the bag and the claws are extended. It’s time.
Father, there is a shadowy side of me that I have been hiding from myself and hiding from you. I am angry, bitter, and resentful. I am realizing how truly fearful I am of you and of the life you have given me. In Jesus, I am not supposed to be afraid. I should be at peace and at rest. But I am not. Beneath the anger is fear. And with the fear is my lost sense of control. If I could perform my way into your approval and the approval of people then perhaps I would finally feel secure. But you don’t work that way. You do not play by the rules of my games. And people are a moving target at best.
I am spiritually bankrupt, God. I have no other moves. I cannot figure this out or perform well enough. I am phony. All of my efforts to earn your approval are worthless. If I could earn your approval then perhaps there would be less uncertainty and smoother sailing. All along it has been about one more self-help book, one more discipline to add, one more year of growing, and a little more money to validate me.
“To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God’s grace means.”
I realize there are multiple levels of theology, psychology, and just common sense about life that my words and prayers seem to violate. A fear that has not been fully faced can create an irrational mess beneath the surface, as it has in me. I find myself strangely and anxiously driven, obsessive, and restless in the routines of everyday life. Until the fear is acknowledged and brought into the light, it remains hidden in the dark where my shadow self bears the brunt of it’s pain while my known self continues to perform under false pretenses.
If I could behave my way into the approval of God and people then all my security is based upon what I do in my own strength. Any slip, and it all falls apart. I am hard on myself because I need to give an optimal performance. Failure and shame are the worst case scenarios that I dread. And so I labor under this underlying dread. If this kind of fear driven behavior isn’t from God then where does it come from?
Great question. What are my fears trying to tell me? What does God have to say in response to my fears? I am studying a book called “Running Scared” by Edward T. Welch. His words are a companion as I walk through this time of dealing with my anger and fear as I look to God for his truth to bring renewal, rest and real surrender.
I wish I had a way to neatly tie up this entry. There is much more to explore. The light is slowly invading my resistance. I reach out and then I pull back again in terror. In starts and stops, like most real growth.
“Rather than minimize your fears, find more of them. Expose them to the light of day because the more you find, the more blessed you will be when you hear words of peace and comfort.”
Edward T Welch, Running Scared
This may seem like a disappointing development from an otherwise mature Christian. And it probably is. But for me this also reveals a beautiful, growing trust in my Father to bring these fears out of the darkness and show him. How often we are growing the most when it seems we are falling apart. The key is to keep moving towards him, bringing ourselves into the light. This is true maturity when he touches our places of immaturity.
“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”
Perhaps I’m a little dumb, like the movie character, Forrest Gump.
Hand me a football, point me towards the end zone, and tell me to run. Like Forrest Gump, I don’t really know when to stop. Forrest would keep going past the end zone until someone helped him. This video makes me laugh every time!
Forrest Gump Running the Football for Alabama
STOP Forrest!
I had been working full time, taking Seminary classes, serving as church treasurer, and navigating family changes during the last 2 years of the pandemic. I was on empty and didn’t want to admit it.
During long drives, I don’t like to pull over at the exit even when I need gas. I want to get wherever I am going even if there is no real hurry to be there. I barely take a lunch break at work. I am internally driven. Perhaps it is the first born syndrome. I need to have a significant and challenging goal ahead of me. But I suspect there is more beneath this internal drive.
Father, I don’t like stops. I have begun to realize that I see you as a hard taskmaster who demands too much of me. I often run fearfully, thinking I’m never doing enough, nor am I good enough. But perhaps if I keep running then one day I will cross a magic line, having achieved enough to consider myself worthy of you and people.
Seminary seems like a good way to find that magic line. Learn a lot, grow, and earn a Masters degree. Regardless of my false motivations, I am convinced that you have called me to study and pursue ministry. No one wakes up one day with perfect motivations to follow you into ministry.
I believe everything you call us to is part of your plan to grow us in maturity and intimate relationship with you. I have looked for an easier way, but there is no running from you. Whether I am called to be a vocational minister, auto mechanic, cashier, wealthy, poor, or retired. You are there, constantly working and cultivating my heart in Christ Jesus.
Seminary is now on pause in order to rest and regroup financially. We have an empty nest at home. I cannot ignore my heart behind the distractions of study and other responsibilities. I do try to find some escape in YouTube and sports, but that only goes so far.
Now I am having to deal with areas that have been stewing beneath the surface of my consciousness. I believe a lot of us are having to do this as the pandemic seems to taper off. Coming out of a crisis is often harder than going into one. Everything that was perhaps put aside in order to deal with the immediate challenges of the pandemic are now needing to be dealt with.
Father, what do you want to do during this rest stop? You know it is more painful for me to stop than to keep going. I’m afraid of losing momentum and motivation. I’m afraid I will miss you. Maybe you will move on without me. I am afraid of the weakness and weariness I now feel. What if I never feel strong again? Did I ever really? How long will I have to wait?
Truly, I find that your mercy is renewing me. Like cold water being poured over my sweaty, shaking hands. And you begin to draw me away into the shadow of your wings.
Reader Questions: Feel free to respond to one or more of these in the comments section below. I look forward to any discussions.
Talk about an area where you are having to wait for God. How is he using this time to get your attention and work in your heart?
What kind of unique challenges are you dealing with as we slowly emerge from the pandemic?
“How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in theshadowofyourwings.”
Have you ever been angry at God? Not me, until now. My eruption turned into a series of journal entries. Too honest. Too recent. Embarrassing. But I need this, and I suspect we all do. Shall we? I’d rather watch basketball.
A Shadowy Figure Emerges
I am the lifelong Christian, like the Elder Son in the parable of the prodigal son. I have been the prodigal also. But now, having returned home years ago and restored to good standing, I find myself growing cold. Or perhaps a part of me has been cold all along.
Father, I am afraid of you. Afraid of the demands of life and my place in it. Internally, I find it hard to rest. I truly do not grasp what you mean by “my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:30). How can I rest and be secure in you when there is so much to do? In my view you remain a harsh task master standing over me, waiting for me to do something significant. And I, the one who wants to bury my talent for fear of doing it wrong.
I simply don’t have the capacity to do everything I see should be done. I’m so far behind. I will never be strong enough. The stronger I get, the more I see that needs to be done, the more I see the need to be stronger. How do I live and work from a place of rest, even while under strain?
And so I’m angry at you God. Why did you do this to me? Why do you demand so much from me? From someone so weak?
Why do you stand over me like a critical and disappointed Father? Why do you condemn me whenever I make a mistake? Why do you hold over me the fear of your judgment? I hate you for that. I’m bitter, resentful and tired of trying to please you under these terms. This is ridiculous. How could you?
I thought I understood grace. Freedom in Christ. In this moment I realize that what I think and what I believe can be two very different things. Somewhere behind my obsession with performing for God, a shadowy figure has emerged. This person is unknown to me until now. Wounded, bitter, and enraged. He is tired of the beating I give him. It appears I house a divided self: one who works desperately to please God and the other who has yet to know and rest in God’s true nature. The restless one erupts unexpectedly and painfully.
“Think for a moment about how Christ-following develops if you assume God looks at you with disgust, disappointment, frustration or anger. The central feature of any spiritual response to such a God will be an effort to earn his approval. Far from daring to relax in his presence, you will be vigilant to perform as well as you possibly can. The motive for any obedience you might offer will be fear rather than love, and there will be little genuine surrender. Surrender involves relaxing, and you must feel safe before you can relax. How could anyone ever expect to feel safe enough to relax in the presence of a God who is preoccupied with their shortcomings and failures?”
David G. Benner, Surrender to Love: Discovering the Heart of Christian Spirituality
This may seem like a disappointing development from an otherwise mature Christian. And it probably is. But for me this also reveals a beautiful, growing trust in my Father to bring these hurts out of the darkness and show him. How often we are growing the most when it seems we are falling apart. The key is to keep moving towards him, bringing ourselves into the light. This is true maturity when he touches our places of immaturity.
Reader Questions: Feel free to respond to one or more of these in the comments section below. I look forward to any discussions.
What has God done in your life that has made you angry or upset with him?
In what ways are you “performing” in order to feel worthy of God and others?
Are you aware of a “shadow self” or a wounded person within that you are trying to compensate for in your life? (If you’re not aware, ask God to show you if there is a place that you are hiding from him and yourself.)
“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
A Heart Transforming 