Gospel Balm
Dr. Laura Hendrickson
BLOG.DRLAURAHENDRICKSON.COM
Beauty And The Beast-Gospelized
I saw a friend's community theater production of Disney's Beauty and the Beast last weekend. As always, this beautiful story about personal transformation moved me to tears. But really, isn't it a glory story (a story where transformation is achieved by a person's own effort)?
Beast is a handsome prince who must win Beauty's love to be released from the spell that has trapped him in a beast's body. So he dresses more nicely, and works on controlling his temper. As he behaves less beastly, he starts to feel less beastly, and even begins to love Beauty. Finally he makes a sacrifice that wins her love and turns him back into a handsome prince.
This story all about improving yourself by practicing good behavior until it starts to come naturally to you, at which point you're magically transformed and live happily ever after.
But there's a lovely scene in the story where Beast is trying to woo Beauty over dinner. He's unable to use his soup spoon with his big paw, and he's ashamed of his failure. Beauty notices and, without a word, picks up her bowl of soup and drinks directly from it, looking at him with kindness and understanding. Beast picks up his soup bowl, too, and drinks his soup. The shame leaves his face and he gazes upon her with love and gratitude.
I thought that this one scene was the gospel in seed form, so I decided to take the whole story and gospelize it (thanks to Elyse Fitzpatrick for this great new word)--that is, make it more consistent with the real gospel message:
I just love happy endings, don't you?I'm the beast, but there's no beautiful princess locked inside me. I was born a beast, and if someone doesn't rescue me, I'll die a beast. A beautiful King finds me and sets his love upon me for no other reason than that he himself is love. But I don't understand his love for me, and think I have to win his love by my good behavior.
So I try to improve my outward appearance (A-), and control my temper (C+), but I'm an utter failure in the unselfishness department. No matter how hard I try, in my heart I'm still all about getting what I want for myself. I fear that my King won't ever love me because I'm still so beastly. I don't realize that he chose me when I was beastly so that he could rescue me, and that he won't leave me. He's determined to accomplish his purpose in my life, because he loves me.
My King works patiently in my heart, and waits for me to have a "soup bowl moment." Then one day it happens. I'm focused upon myself and ashamed of my failure as usual, but as I look into his face, I see his kindness toward me even though I'm failing yet again. He understands my weakness, and loves me just the same. How can I do anything but respond to his love with my own love and gratitude? And as I do, I become just a little less beastly--not because I've made myself this way, but because my focus finally is on him and his loveliness instead of on myself and my failure (2 Corinthians 3:18).
Gospel Balm For Control Freaks Like Me
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
In your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,when as yet there was none of them.
Psalm 139:16
Like Martha of Bethany, I awaken every morning "anxious and troubled about many things" (Luke 10:41). I've learned that f I'm going to walk in faith, I must actively remember the "one thing (that) is necessary" (v. 42), which is sitting at the Lord's feet, like Mary, and listening to his voice. I do this by reading Scripture first thing in the morning. If I don't, I find I'm so busy trying to make myself safe in various ways that I'm constantly forgetting that Christ is my only safety (Proverbs 29:25), and apart from him I'm absolutely powerless (John 15:5). In other words, my desire to be in control is futile, and any sense of control I have is just an illusion.
This morning Psalm 139:16 reminded me anew of this truth. It tells me that the Lord saw me, and was already taking care of me, when I was still just "unformed substance" in my mother's womb. The phrase "unformed substance" makes me think of the very earliest stage of pregnancy, before the first missed period, when I was still little more than a ball of cells. My mother didn't know she was carrying me at that point, and even if she did, there was nothing she could do to care for me. But everywhere in Scripture when we're told God sees something, he does something about what he sees. So when this verse tells me that he saw me, it's saying me that he was caring for me even at that very earliest stage of my life.
It also tells me that he's had a specific, highly detailed plan for my life right from the very start. Here I am, living as though it's all up to me, so often reacting from fear and self-concern, when the Lord tells me that he's been on the job right from the beginning, caring for me. If he was taking care of me way back then, long before I knew to ask him and wasn't giving him the glory, how much more is he caring for me now?
Are you still tempted to worry, even though you're seeking to trust him? Me too! Join me today in remembering this when you don't know what to do next, and are tempted to revert to those old control freak ways!
Casting all your anxieties upon him, because he cares for you.
1 Peter 5:7
Bad Romance and the Gospel
I read an astonishing quote from Lady Gaga today. In discussing the lyrics to her song, Bad Romance, Lady G said, "What I'm really trying to say is I want the deepest, darkest, sickest parts of you that you are afraid to share with anyone because I love you that much."1 To which I can only respond, Really, Lady G? Really?
I confess that I'm a romantic like Lady Gaga. I'd love to believe that there's someone out there who could love me the same way when my mood's ugly as s/he does when I'm gracious. I'd also like to believe that I'm capable of offering this kind of love to someone else. But hey, I also have to be realistic. My experience in actual relationships with real human beings and my study of Scripture both tell me that there are no such people in our sinful, fallen world.
Lady Gaga obviously believes she's the exception to this, but since she's also been quoted as saying, "I can't sleep with a man who dims my shine,"2 don't be too quick to take her at her word about her commitment to unconditional love.
Really, isn't there some self-deception like this in each of us? Don't we all want to believe that we're capable of loving the most unloveable things in others, while simultaneously remaining determined to always come first in every circumstance? Or is it just me?
Okay, yes I know. You've met some (relatively) selfless people. In fact, your mother was always patient with you, even that time with the baseball bat and the chocolate cake. But are you really saying that she never once sinned against you? Ever? Really?
In your better moments, you may appear (relatively) selfless yourself. But be honest. When you look in your heart, if you're like me you find a seething cauldron of selfish desires. Battle them as you may, they keep coming back. The Bible tells us that this is because we're sinful by nature.
But if it's not possible to be a selfless person, why do we think that somehow, under the right circumstances we could become one? And why do we long for unconditional love? C.S. Lewis said, "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."3 Precisely.
Only one person like this has ever existed, Jesus Christ, the God-man. If you're one of his own people, purchased by his blood, he really does love you that much. And so it turns out that we weren't so wrong to hope that we might somehow find unconditional love. We were only wrong about where it's to be found. It's not found in sinful human beings, however nice they may be. It's only in Christ.
Talk about looking for love in all the wrong places! Trying to find this kind of love from people, even Christian people, is wasted effort. Please don't misunderstand me. We're still called by God's grace to love the people he puts in our lives the best we're able. But the day will come when we'll be loved and able to love unconditionally. And it will come when we join Jesus in eternity and are transformed into his likeness, not before. Until then we'll struggle to love the unlovely, because we ourselves are just as unlovely. We're all incapable of true love because we're all sinful by nature.
If you're a Christian, the hope of true love remains because Jesus promises that we won't remain like this forever. When we leave this sinful world and our sinful bodies, our nature will change permanently (1 Corinthians 15:52). Sin will be conquered. Lovers will love perfectly.
And if you're not yet a Christian, the longing you feel for true love is meant to draw you to Jesus. Let the promise of true, unconditional love call you to his side. His love will never fail you.
1Anitai, Tamar (2009-11-02). "Lady Gaga On MTV's 'It's On With Alexa Chung'". MTV (MTV Networks). Retrieved 2009-11-03. Accessed at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bad_Romance
3 Lewis, C.S., Mere Christianity, accessed at http://www.comnett.net/~rex/cslewis.htm
Leaky Faith and Phi Beta Kappa
When Eric was nearly 3 years old and not speaking yet, I was told that he had autism. The doctor said that he was retarded, and probably would never speak.
I remember watching the movie Rainman soon after Eric's diagnosis and thinking that if he just did as well as the title character, that would be enough. Raymond was seriously impaired, but at least he could speak. My dreams were too small, because I couldn't even imagine what God was going to do through our suffering.
We put Eric into an experimental (at that time) early intervention program, and he finally did speak, at 4. But his development continued to be delayed, and I struggled to understand him and help him. It was painful and exhausting, and it took years before I was really confident that he no longer merited the diagnosis of autism. That day was a real mountaintop experience! I was sure that, having received a real miracle from the Lord, my faith would never waver again.
I was wrong. That wonderful day did not mark the end of our suffering. Instead we continued to struggle--in different ways, but just as intensely as in earlier years. We never saw steady progress "from faith to faith"--instead, humiliating failures regularly punctuated our growth in grace. Both of us repeatedly needed the ministry of our elders to restore us. Ours was no glory story! (If you're not sure what I mean, read my entry about glory stories here.)
Then came the day that Eric received a prestigious direct admission to the University of California, San Diego. A few months after that, we learned that he would be his high school class valedictorian. On graduation day, I wept openly as Eric spoke about his faith that God had created him with purpose and had ordained even his challenges. Another mountaintop experience! I was sure that I'd never doubt God's goodness to us again. I was also confident that Eric's faith would never again waver.
Once again I was wrong. There have been more painful struggles, and more humiliating failures. But God has promised in his Word that he will not let us go, and he's been faithful to that promise.
Learning about Eric's election to Phi Beta Kappa, on Mother's Day no less, was yet another mountaintop experience for me. But at this point in my walk of faith, I'm more realistic about the future. No matter how high the mountaintop, my faith always seems to spring a slow leak sooner or later, once I've returned to the valley. I just can't sustain it on my own. I need God's grace! I'm thankful that he is faithful, even when I'm not. I can be confident in this, no matter how leaky a time I may be going through!
I'm realizing more and more that struggling to believe in God's goodness during painful circumstances is just part of the normal Christian life. It's unrealistic to hope that, while still on earth, I'll be able to stay on the mountaintop. One day I will, but this will happen when I enter glory, not while I'm still living in a sin-cursed world in a sinful body, subject to Satan's deceits and temptations.
As long as I live on this earth, my faith will be prone to springing these slow leaks. This is why it's so very important for me to keep preaching the gospel to myself. I also need to keep intentionally reminding myself of all the things the Lord has done for me, because I'm so prone to forget them otherwise.
God's Word commands us to remember the great things he'd done for us (Deuteronomy 4:9, 6:10,12; Hebrews 2:1). It offers examples of how to use various methods to remind ourselves of his presence, his provision, the great victories he's given, and his redemption of us in Christ (Exodus 12:14; Numbers 15:39; Joshua 4:7, 24:27; Luke 22:19). And it contains the Psalms to sing, which remind us of the same things.
Reading the Bible daily helps us to remember, and we can pay special attention to its many examples of God's faithfulness when our faith is under pressure. We also can admit our "leakiness" to him in prayer. He'll strengthen us to trust and remember if we just bring our need to him. Another helpful aid to memory is to journal or otherwise record the evidences of his care for us during good times, and return to them during times of struggle.
I've been going through a time of personal suffering recently. God has been so kind, to meet me at the point of my need through Scripture, prayer, and unusual evidences of his love and care for me. He's given me this faith-building Mother's Day gift to remind me in yet another way that he's still at work in my life and Eric's, even when it's hard for me to see it.
Some of you reading this may be "in the trenches" with autism spectrum children. Others may be going through a time of suffering, like me. Whatever your situation, I've asked God to give you the grace to piggyback on my faith, which is strong for the moment, as you wait for him. And when I spring a faith leak again, as I invariably will sooner or later, perhaps you will be praying for me.
Jesus Christ: Our True Edward Cullen
I was reminded of our Savior the other night as I watched the second movie in the Twilight series, New Moon. Granted, I also hooted with hysterical laughter, because, although it was romantic, I'm just too much of a realist to ignore the impossible and yield myself to the romance. And by impossible I don't mean the vampire with supernatural powers part. What's really impossible is that, in real life, nobody loves anyone as self-sacrificially as Edward loves Bella.
The movie got me thinking about why this kind of story is so incredibly popular. I remember Titanic, perhaps the last romantic movie to get young women so excited. It has a very similar theme of self-sacrificial love. Just like Edward, Jack, the hero of Titanic, is all about doing what's best for Rose, even ultimately giving up his own life so she can live.
Edward and Jack are both omnipotent and omniscient. In New Moon, Edward keeps appearing to Bella in a puff of smoke at the last minute, urging her not to do stupid, self-destructive things. How does he know what she's doing when he's not there? He's also immediately there when she needs him to protect her. He knows how to solve all her problems, and he has all the power he needs to do so. In Titanic, Jack, a stowaway from the slums of Liverpool who's never been on a ship before, knows just what Rose needs to free her spirit in that iconic scene on the bow of the ship, where he coaches her to pretend she's flying. Later, when the ship began to sink, he knows exactly how to survive: climb to the highest point and hang on as the ship goes down, then let go at just the right moment. How does he know all this?
Why do these stories capture the hearts of millions? I think it's because they touch us right in our souls' God-shaped holes. Before I came to Christ, I longed for unconditional love, and most of my friends wanted to find the same thing. But think about it. Why do we long for something like this? Why do we even think that such a thing is possible? I think it's because we're created for it--created for a relationship with the God who keeps loving His own, even when they keep on sinning.
Before I really understood the gospel, I used to be fairly unmoved by Hebrews 4:15 (printed at the top). Don't get me wrong, it was nice to have Jesus' sympathy, but I have to admit that knowing that didn't do much for me. Does it help you when someone says, "I know just how you feel"? Not so much. I mean, it's nice; you appreciate the thought; you feel understood and that's comforting, but it doesn't help. But when someone says, "I've been through that. I know what you need and and I'll help you with it," it's different, isn't it? It helps!
And this is the wonderful thing about Jesus. Unlike make-believe creatures like vampires with supernatural powers (who love you too much to drink your blood!), unlike make-believe men who know how to solve a problem without having ever faced it before, Jesus is a real person who lived for 33 years in flesh just like ours. He suffered temptation like ours. He knows just how we feel, and more than that, He's able to do something about it, because He's not just a man, He's the Risen, omnipotent, omniscient God-man (Ephesians 1:19-22). He not only knows what we need; He's also able to give it to us.
For since he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted (Hebrews 2:18).Jesus Christ, our great high priest, really is living for our welfare. He really is there when we get ready to do something stupid or self-destructive, to touch our consciences and urge us to turn back. He's always with us, and gives us the power to escape the worst soul-peril. He's actually promised that, "I will never leave you nor forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5). He even, really and truly, gave up His earthly life so we could live with Him forever. Hallelujah, what a Savior!
He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them (Hebrews 7:25).
If you're His, that's really something to celebrate. You don't need the world's fantasy substitutes. You also don't need to idolize other human beings, who can never fulfill the real longings of your soul. You've got the Real Thing.
And if you're not His yet, what are you waiting for?
Jesus, what a strength in weakness! Let me hide myself in him;
Tempted, tried, and sometimes failing, he my strength, my victory wins.
Hallelujah, what a Savior! Hallelujah, what a Friend!
Saving, helping, keeping, loving, he is with me to the end.
The Gospel Versus Glory Stories
Don't you just love stories with a happy ending? I know I do, and as I survey our culture I see that I'm not alone. Happy ending stories are everywhere!
You see it in our advertising: Sue is overweight and miserable, until she begins the XYZ program, and loses 100 pounds. With her new look she finds a better paying job, and a new boyfriend.
You see it in our movies: Mary and John are single. At first they don't even like one another, but after meeting a variety of challenges successfully together, they fall in love and live happily ever after.
You even see it in our political biographies. A fatherless black man raised in a white world finds meaning in politics and a politically active church, marries the right woman, builds a strong family, and is elected President.
You also see it in our Christian testimonies. Anne is a biker chick and heroin addict who comes to Christ, stops using, starts going to church, and marries a wonderful man.
We Christians love stories like Anne's, don't we? And well we should. Our God specializes in giving beauty for ashes (Isaiah 61:3). But does He give all of His people a "happily ever after" ending? That's what I thought when I first came to Christ. That year, a popular evangelistic tract taught me that "God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life."
When I came to church and told my new pastor the sad story of my life, he responded with Anne's story--to encourage me, he said. I left his office that day confident that, because God loved me and had a wonderful plan for my life, He would give me a story like hers. But after walking with Christ for six years and no happy ending in sight, I walked away.
God was kind to me, and didn't leave me to myself. He called me back to faith and obedience a few years later, but I continued to see the lack of a "happy ending" in my life as evidence that God didn't love me as much as those who were experiencing the blessings I'd hoped for.
What was I missing? I was confusing my culture's emphasis on "happy ending" stories with what the Bible really teaches about suffering and the Christian. The Bible says that there's a happy ending waiting for each of Christ's children, but it comes when we join Him in glory. That's a "glory story" we can count on. But the Bible doesn't teach that when we come to Christ all our troubles will be over.
It's certainly not what happened to the Apostle Paul. Here's his testimony:
I think it's because we confuse worldly "happily ever after" stories with the Bible's testimony. My pal Elyse Fitzpatrick calls tales like this "glory stories." By this she means that any anecdote that begins with self-effort and results in a happy ending is not a Gospel story, because the protagonists have earned their happy ending by their own good behavior. Take another look at the first three stories I told. Sue lost weight. John and Mary successfully met challenges together. Our president worked hard and made right choices. The clear message in all of these stories is: Right behavior produces temporal blessing.
So what about Anne, in the fourth story? Am I saying that it teaches that she earned her happy marriage by her own efforts? No, not necessarily. But you can see how a new Christian might conclude that, when she doesn't get a "happily ever after" like Anne's, she must have done something wrong, or God doesn't really love her. And unfortunately, sometimes our Christian teaching can unintentionally suggest this.
When we mix up the world's rags-to-riches tales with the gospel we can end up with a hybrid that can tell a sufferer that if she isn't experiencing God's blessing in visible ways, it must be her fault.
What does the Gospel really teach sufferers?
You see it in our advertising: Sue is overweight and miserable, until she begins the XYZ program, and loses 100 pounds. With her new look she finds a better paying job, and a new boyfriend.
You see it in our movies: Mary and John are single. At first they don't even like one another, but after meeting a variety of challenges successfully together, they fall in love and live happily ever after.
You even see it in our political biographies. A fatherless black man raised in a white world finds meaning in politics and a politically active church, marries the right woman, builds a strong family, and is elected President.
You also see it in our Christian testimonies. Anne is a biker chick and heroin addict who comes to Christ, stops using, starts going to church, and marries a wonderful man.
We Christians love stories like Anne's, don't we? And well we should. Our God specializes in giving beauty for ashes (Isaiah 61:3). But does He give all of His people a "happily ever after" ending? That's what I thought when I first came to Christ. That year, a popular evangelistic tract taught me that "God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life."
When I came to church and told my new pastor the sad story of my life, he responded with Anne's story--to encourage me, he said. I left his office that day confident that, because God loved me and had a wonderful plan for my life, He would give me a story like hers. But after walking with Christ for six years and no happy ending in sight, I walked away.
God was kind to me, and didn't leave me to myself. He called me back to faith and obedience a few years later, but I continued to see the lack of a "happy ending" in my life as evidence that God didn't love me as much as those who were experiencing the blessings I'd hoped for.
What was I missing? I was confusing my culture's emphasis on "happy ending" stories with what the Bible really teaches about suffering and the Christian. The Bible says that there's a happy ending waiting for each of Christ's children, but it comes when we join Him in glory. That's a "glory story" we can count on. But the Bible doesn't teach that when we come to Christ all our troubles will be over.
It's certainly not what happened to the Apostle Paul. Here's his testimony:
It's not what happened to the Prophet Jeremiah, either. Called to be a prophet by God, here's how he felt about the response of the people to his message:To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our own hands. When persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat. We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world,the refuse of all things. When reviled, we bless... (1 Corinthians 4:11-13).
Did these godly saints' experiences mean that God didn't love them as much as Joseph, who was raised from suffering as a slave and prisoner to become second in command to Pharaoh in Egypt? I think we all know the answer to that question. So why do we who've experienced suffering sometimes doubt God's love for us?Woe is me, my mother, that you bore me, a man of strife and contention to the whole land! I have not lent, nor have I borrowed, yet all of them curse me (Jeremiah 15:10).
I think it's because we confuse worldly "happily ever after" stories with the Bible's testimony. My pal Elyse Fitzpatrick calls tales like this "glory stories." By this she means that any anecdote that begins with self-effort and results in a happy ending is not a Gospel story, because the protagonists have earned their happy ending by their own good behavior. Take another look at the first three stories I told. Sue lost weight. John and Mary successfully met challenges together. Our president worked hard and made right choices. The clear message in all of these stories is: Right behavior produces temporal blessing.
So what about Anne, in the fourth story? Am I saying that it teaches that she earned her happy marriage by her own efforts? No, not necessarily. But you can see how a new Christian might conclude that, when she doesn't get a "happily ever after" like Anne's, she must have done something wrong, or God doesn't really love her. And unfortunately, sometimes our Christian teaching can unintentionally suggest this.
When we mix up the world's rags-to-riches tales with the gospel we can end up with a hybrid that can tell a sufferer that if she isn't experiencing God's blessing in visible ways, it must be her fault.
What does the Gospel really teach sufferers?
- If you are in Christ (Ephesians 1), God loves you, because you're united to His sinless, perfect Son, with whom He is always well pleased (John 8:29). You didn't win His love by your good behavior, and you can't lose it by your disobedience (Ephesians 2:8,9).
- God spent all of his anger for your sin on Jesus. He has no more left for you (1 John 2:2). So when life doesn't go the way you wish it would, it's not because he's angry with you over your sins.
- Because God loves you, He sends into your life whatever is best for you, to conform you to the image of His Son (Romans 8:28,29). He doesn't send trials because you haven't done well enough, or to punish you. Trials come into our lives to teach us to look to Christ for grace (2 Corinthians 12:9,10).
- Because God's love was demonstrated for all time by the sacrifice of His Son, we don't need to look for further evidence of it in our own lives (Romans 8:32-39). When we choose to believe in the testimony of Scripture, no matter what's happening in our lives, we respond to our trials with confident love and trust for Him who loved us (2 Corinthians 12:10; Romans 5:3-5), and grow into His image (2 Corinthians 3:18).
Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In every change he faithful will remain.
Be still my soul, your best, your heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
Whoops, I Forgot The Gospel
Recently I forgot the gospel--that is to say, I forgot to preach the gospel to myself about a friendship that was important to me. And as so often happens with me, I didn't even realize that I wasn't thinking about it in a "gospelized" way until things completely fell apart between us. Here's an abridged version of what happened.
Without husbands involved, single women can develop very strong friendships with one another. I'm not talking about anything improper here--my friend really was just a friend. But although I was reading my Bible, praying every day, and preaching the gospel to myself, it seems that I gradually developed a blind spot in my relationship with her, and she began taking the place of Christ in my thinking.
This kind of thing often happens to believers, because although we've been given new hearts, we continue to struggle with a natural tendency to place our trust in people, instead of God. The Bible calls this idolatry--putting anything ahead of God in our hearts. Why do I use such a strong word as "idolatry" to describe what was happening in my friendship? Why is this so wrong?
Jesus Christ, not any other human being, is the source of my purpose and importance, safety and security. Ultimately I matter, not because my friend values me, but because Christ chose me, lived a perfect life for me, and died for my sins on the cross. I'm safe, not because I have a friend walking with me, but because I'm in Christ. God loves me because I'm united to my Savior, and has committed Himself to care for me.
When I forget these things, I'm prone to start leaning inappropriately on my friend and expecting her to love, understand, and accept me perfectly. And if she's doing the same thing in her heart toward me, our friendship is doomed. We're bound to be disappointed in each other sooner or later, because only God is perfect. No fallible human being can take His place in our lives.
God intends friendship (or any other close relationship) between two of His children to be a byproduct of the primary relationship that each of them have with Him. He calls us to lean upon Him as the source of our purpose and importance, safety and security. And as we look to Him for provision, He enables us to serve one other in love. But too often in the relationships that mean the most to us, we inevitably find ourselves trying to lean on one another instead of serving one another, and in so doing we become disappointed in one another. There is only one Rock. He will never fail us. Others eventually will, because they're fallible sinners, just like us.
The problem I'm describing doesn't just happen in friendships between single women either, BTW. It happens between spouses, and it happens between parents and children. We also see it in the tendency some of us have to put our pastors on pedestals. Do I need to tell you that there's only one direction for a pastor to go once we've put him up on a pedestal? Right--down. When he turns out to be another sinner, just like us, not a perfect pastor who will never fail us, he'll be off the pedestal in our hearts. And we'll be disappointed because, once again, we've put my trust in the wrong person. There's only one Perfect Pastor.
But God is so kind! He doesn't just leave me in my idolatry, but ordains circumstances that reveal my heart to me, so I can see how I've placed others ahead of Him and apply the truth of the gospel to my failure. This is how I learn to trust more in Him, and less in myself and other people.
So what does the gospel say about how I ought to respond when my friend disappoints me? Well, it sweetly asks me what I was expecting from a fellow sinner. Duh! My friend's not the Lord--she's someone who needed Jesus to die for her sins, just like me. Of course she's not the Rock! Why was I expecting her to be?
Jesus is so patient with people. Remember His response when the two "sons of thunder," James and John, wanted to call down fire from heaven on the folks who didn't treat them the way they thought they should be treated? He rebuked them and said, "You do not know what manner of spirit you are of; for the Son of Man came not to destroy people’s lives but to save them" (Luke 9:55--marginal note in some versions).
I confess that I'm like those sons of thunder. I want to pay back the people who don't give me what I wanted to receive, what I think I deserve. But Jesus will give me the grace to respond like Him if I'll remember to take a deep breath when I'm provoked, and just ask Him for it.
So,what if I didn't take that deep breath and ask for what I needed to love my sister the way Jesus loves her? When I ask Him to forgive me for my failure, He'll always grant it. And He doesn't grant it the way a son of thunder like me would--grudgingly, making sure I know just how much I've disappointed Him. Instead He always receives me with open arms, just happy that I've come to my senses and have returned to walking with Him in love.
My conscience often continues to accuse me, because I failed to respond the way Jesus would have. Here's where the most precious truth of the gospel ministers to me. Jesus lived a perfect life for me, and that perfect life is credited to my account by the Father. Jesus' gracious and patient responses to provocation by sinners? All credited to me. My sinful failure? Separated from me as far as the east is for the west. Wow.
And as the recipient of such amazing love, all I can do is thank Him, praise Him, and love Him even more.
Without husbands involved, single women can develop very strong friendships with one another. I'm not talking about anything improper here--my friend really was just a friend. But although I was reading my Bible, praying every day, and preaching the gospel to myself, it seems that I gradually developed a blind spot in my relationship with her, and she began taking the place of Christ in my thinking.
This kind of thing often happens to believers, because although we've been given new hearts, we continue to struggle with a natural tendency to place our trust in people, instead of God. The Bible calls this idolatry--putting anything ahead of God in our hearts. Why do I use such a strong word as "idolatry" to describe what was happening in my friendship? Why is this so wrong?
Jesus Christ, not any other human being, is the source of my purpose and importance, safety and security. Ultimately I matter, not because my friend values me, but because Christ chose me, lived a perfect life for me, and died for my sins on the cross. I'm safe, not because I have a friend walking with me, but because I'm in Christ. God loves me because I'm united to my Savior, and has committed Himself to care for me.
When I forget these things, I'm prone to start leaning inappropriately on my friend and expecting her to love, understand, and accept me perfectly. And if she's doing the same thing in her heart toward me, our friendship is doomed. We're bound to be disappointed in each other sooner or later, because only God is perfect. No fallible human being can take His place in our lives.
God intends friendship (or any other close relationship) between two of His children to be a byproduct of the primary relationship that each of them have with Him. He calls us to lean upon Him as the source of our purpose and importance, safety and security. And as we look to Him for provision, He enables us to serve one other in love. But too often in the relationships that mean the most to us, we inevitably find ourselves trying to lean on one another instead of serving one another, and in so doing we become disappointed in one another. There is only one Rock. He will never fail us. Others eventually will, because they're fallible sinners, just like us.
The problem I'm describing doesn't just happen in friendships between single women either, BTW. It happens between spouses, and it happens between parents and children. We also see it in the tendency some of us have to put our pastors on pedestals. Do I need to tell you that there's only one direction for a pastor to go once we've put him up on a pedestal? Right--down. When he turns out to be another sinner, just like us, not a perfect pastor who will never fail us, he'll be off the pedestal in our hearts. And we'll be disappointed because, once again, we've put my trust in the wrong person. There's only one Perfect Pastor.
But God is so kind! He doesn't just leave me in my idolatry, but ordains circumstances that reveal my heart to me, so I can see how I've placed others ahead of Him and apply the truth of the gospel to my failure. This is how I learn to trust more in Him, and less in myself and other people.
So what does the gospel say about how I ought to respond when my friend disappoints me? Well, it sweetly asks me what I was expecting from a fellow sinner. Duh! My friend's not the Lord--she's someone who needed Jesus to die for her sins, just like me. Of course she's not the Rock! Why was I expecting her to be?
Jesus is so patient with people. Remember His response when the two "sons of thunder," James and John, wanted to call down fire from heaven on the folks who didn't treat them the way they thought they should be treated? He rebuked them and said, "You do not know what manner of spirit you are of; for the Son of Man came not to destroy people’s lives but to save them" (Luke 9:55--marginal note in some versions).
I confess that I'm like those sons of thunder. I want to pay back the people who don't give me what I wanted to receive, what I think I deserve. But Jesus will give me the grace to respond like Him if I'll remember to take a deep breath when I'm provoked, and just ask Him for it.
So,what if I didn't take that deep breath and ask for what I needed to love my sister the way Jesus loves her? When I ask Him to forgive me for my failure, He'll always grant it. And He doesn't grant it the way a son of thunder like me would--grudgingly, making sure I know just how much I've disappointed Him. Instead He always receives me with open arms, just happy that I've come to my senses and have returned to walking with Him in love.
My conscience often continues to accuse me, because I failed to respond the way Jesus would have. Here's where the most precious truth of the gospel ministers to me. Jesus lived a perfect life for me, and that perfect life is credited to my account by the Father. Jesus' gracious and patient responses to provocation by sinners? All credited to me. My sinful failure? Separated from me as far as the east is for the west. Wow.
And as the recipient of such amazing love, all I can do is thank Him, praise Him, and love Him even more.
When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end to all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died
My ransomed soul is counted free,
For God the just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me.
Tax Season Unbelief
It's that most wonderful time of the year again--tax time! Are you stressed yet? I am! I saw my accountant today. He'll have my tax form done in another week or so; I'll mail it in and can forget about it for another year. Can't wait!
One of the reasons I find tax season so stressful is because it reminds me of my financial situation. I don't feel safe when I don't know what's going to happen, and I never know exactly what's going to happen with my finances. My income isn't very predictable. I have several small, variable income streams, and it takes all of them to support Eric and me. I can do fine in a month where a little less is coming in--as long as a little more comes in later on. And, in fact, I have been fine. But I still struggle with worry, and at tax time every year comes the reckoning, when I finally get the big picture of the year before in dollars and cents.
I sat down last week to gather income and deduction information for my long-suffering accountant. It's a complicated process, and I dread doing it. But when I finally cranked up my personal accounting software and made an income/expense report, I was astonished to discover that my income for 2009 was almost exactly the same as that for 2008. Almost to the dollar! This was surprising because my circumstances were very different last year than the the year before. I hadn't been sure what to expect the report to say, but I definitely didn't expect that.
Wow, the Lord provided for us! Why was I so surprised? Hadn't I ask Him to?
I remember worrying about whether I'd have enough in 2009 a year ago, when I was doing my 2008 taxes, because I'd realized that one of my income streams would be smaller in 2009. Well, guess what happened. The Lord increased two of the other streams enough to compensate for the decrease I was expecting--again, almost to the dollar. It was as if He was saying, "See? You didn't even realize that I was taking care of you--but I was. I'm paying careful attention, even when you aren't, down to the last detail." Isn't that cool?
But I'm sorry to have to tell you that I didn't even wait till tax time came this year, to start worrying about whether I'd have enough in 2010. I was off and running on the worry track way back last December. Once again it's hard for me to see how it will work out. Oh, me of little faith! Somehow, even seeing the almost miraculous quality of God's provision last year doesn't help me as much as it should to tame my worries about this year.
I was already under conviction about this when I decided to listen to one of my favorite gospel tracks, by The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, last week. Here are the lyrics that got my attention,
As I was listening, I realized that there's no amount of proof from my experience great enough to outweigh my fear that somehow, when I least expect it, God will fail me this year. This is probably because, having experienced painful things in the past before I understood how a sovereign God works in the lives of His people, I just don't expect to be blessed and cared for.
So I asked God in prayer: If evidence of Your care for me today doesn't outweigh my earlier feeling of being abandoned by You, no matter how much You do for me, how can I learn to trust You fully?
Then suddenly I remembered. What do I always tell my counselees? When your experience and the Bible disagree, you have to go with what God says is infallibly true-- and that's His Word, not your feelings. This is what faith is (Hebrews 11). God calls me to trust in His truth and cling to His promises--even when it feels as if they can't be true for me. His truth is greater than my feelings. When I'm struggling, I need to preach the Gospel to myself--especially the part about How He's committed Himself to care for me, because I'm His child.
God sends dry financial times into my life to strengthen my faith. When they come, I need to cling to the truth that He loves me. In fact, He's already proved His love for me in the most dramatic way possible, by sending His son to die in my place (Romans 5:8). I don't need any more proof.
God doesn't promise to give me everything I'd like to receive but because He loves me, He's committed Himself to provide for my needs (Matthew 6:25-34). My job is to trust in His promise.
This is hard for me, and I won't do it perfectly. But He loves me even when I fail, and He always forgives me when I come to Him in repentance. What a wonderful God we serve!
How about that? Tax time has never been a gospel-centered experience for me before. God is always faithful to meet me where I am, even when I'm stuck in an unbelieving place.
One of the reasons I find tax season so stressful is because it reminds me of my financial situation. I don't feel safe when I don't know what's going to happen, and I never know exactly what's going to happen with my finances. My income isn't very predictable. I have several small, variable income streams, and it takes all of them to support Eric and me. I can do fine in a month where a little less is coming in--as long as a little more comes in later on. And, in fact, I have been fine. But I still struggle with worry, and at tax time every year comes the reckoning, when I finally get the big picture of the year before in dollars and cents.
I sat down last week to gather income and deduction information for my long-suffering accountant. It's a complicated process, and I dread doing it. But when I finally cranked up my personal accounting software and made an income/expense report, I was astonished to discover that my income for 2009 was almost exactly the same as that for 2008. Almost to the dollar! This was surprising because my circumstances were very different last year than the the year before. I hadn't been sure what to expect the report to say, but I definitely didn't expect that.
Wow, the Lord provided for us! Why was I so surprised? Hadn't I ask Him to?
I remember worrying about whether I'd have enough in 2009 a year ago, when I was doing my 2008 taxes, because I'd realized that one of my income streams would be smaller in 2009. Well, guess what happened. The Lord increased two of the other streams enough to compensate for the decrease I was expecting--again, almost to the dollar. It was as if He was saying, "See? You didn't even realize that I was taking care of you--but I was. I'm paying careful attention, even when you aren't, down to the last detail." Isn't that cool?
But I'm sorry to have to tell you that I didn't even wait till tax time came this year, to start worrying about whether I'd have enough in 2010. I was off and running on the worry track way back last December. Once again it's hard for me to see how it will work out. Oh, me of little faith! Somehow, even seeing the almost miraculous quality of God's provision last year doesn't help me as much as it should to tame my worries about this year.
I was already under conviction about this when I decided to listen to one of my favorite gospel tracks, by The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, last week. Here are the lyrics that got my attention,
Listen to it here, if you'd like.How many times must I prove how much I love you?
How many ways must my love for you I show?
How many times must I rescue you from trouble
For you to know just how much I love you?
Didn't I wake you up this morning?
You were clothed, in your right mind.
When you walked up on a problem,
Didn't I step right in on time?
When you were weak along life's journey,
My angels carried you,
So you would know just how much I love you.
How many days must I be a fence around you?
How many nights must I wipe your tears away?
How many storms must I bring you safely through,
For you to know just how I love you?
Didn't I put food on your table?
Showed up when your bills were due?
When the pain was wracking your body,
Didn't I send my healing down to you?
When you were lost in sin and sorrow,
I died to set you free,
So you would know just how much I love you.
As I was listening, I realized that there's no amount of proof from my experience great enough to outweigh my fear that somehow, when I least expect it, God will fail me this year. This is probably because, having experienced painful things in the past before I understood how a sovereign God works in the lives of His people, I just don't expect to be blessed and cared for.
So I asked God in prayer: If evidence of Your care for me today doesn't outweigh my earlier feeling of being abandoned by You, no matter how much You do for me, how can I learn to trust You fully?
Then suddenly I remembered. What do I always tell my counselees? When your experience and the Bible disagree, you have to go with what God says is infallibly true-- and that's His Word, not your feelings. This is what faith is (Hebrews 11). God calls me to trust in His truth and cling to His promises--even when it feels as if they can't be true for me. His truth is greater than my feelings. When I'm struggling, I need to preach the Gospel to myself--especially the part about How He's committed Himself to care for me, because I'm His child.
God sends dry financial times into my life to strengthen my faith. When they come, I need to cling to the truth that He loves me. In fact, He's already proved His love for me in the most dramatic way possible, by sending His son to die in my place (Romans 5:8). I don't need any more proof.
God doesn't promise to give me everything I'd like to receive but because He loves me, He's committed Himself to provide for my needs (Matthew 6:25-34). My job is to trust in His promise.
This is hard for me, and I won't do it perfectly. But He loves me even when I fail, and He always forgives me when I come to Him in repentance. What a wonderful God we serve!
How about that? Tax time has never been a gospel-centered experience for me before. God is always faithful to meet me where I am, even when I'm stuck in an unbelieving place.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God. (Psalm 40:2,3)
Verbal Cruelty and the Gospel
Have you noticed that cruelty has become very cool these days? The ability to make cuttingly clever remarks is what makes TV personalities popular. Sitcoms make jokes at the expense of others, and their jokes, or ones like them, migrate into our own conversations. Entire web sites and TV shows are devoted to exposing the weaknesses and failures of others--and not just public figures, but even ordinary folks who've had the misfortune of saying or doing something embarrassing in public. Reality shows put people in stressful situations, then wait for them to behave badly. Comedians deliberately set people up to expose their gullibility or ignorance.
I've watched some of these shows and read some of these web sites. I've cringed for those who are humiliated publicly, sometimes. Other times I've laughed at them.
You'd think that someone who's suffered shame and ridicule would never be amused to see someone else be treated that way. But if I'm honest, I have to admit that sometimes I enjoy it. I've also used my tongue to show how cool and clever I am at someone's expense. Why would I do this, knowing what I do about how it feels to have it done to me?
Those of us who've been hurt are sometimes the first to hurt others in similar ways. It seems as though this shouldn't happen, yet it does. Why?
Many of us who've survived painful experiences struggle constantly with feelings of inferiority. Some of us were told repeatedly that we were of no value to the ones we loved. Others were treated by others in ways that told us that we had no value. Our memories of mistreatment send us powerful messages about our inadequacy and inferiority--messages we hope aren't true, but fear that they are.
But we, who have been so deeply hurt ourselves, sometimes hurt others in an effort to prove that we aren't the losers we fear we are. After all, if we laugh at someone for their weaknesses, we can feel superior to them, at least for a while. If someone laughs at our clever remarks at another's expense, it can feel like proof that we're fun, popular--valuable. Some of us even use verbal aggressiveness as a shield to hold others at bay, in an attempt to protect ourselves from more hurt.
I find that I'm most tempted to fear others, or to tear down others to build myself up, when I've forgotten who I am already in Christ. I will feel inferior, insecure and unloved to the precise extent that I fail to believe the gospel. The truth is that I'm even worse than I feared. Apart from Christ I'm intensely self-centered: totally out for myself, just the kind of person who would tear someone else down to feel better about myself. I'm also the kind of person who would hurt someone else to make myself feel safe. I don't like to think of myself this way, but as I look back, not just at the memories where I'm a victim, but also at things I've done that I'm not proud of, I know that it's true. In fact, the Bible teaches that I'm capable of anything unless the God's grace restrains me. And so are we all. Fortunately that's not the whole story.
The gospel also tells me that I'm also loved more than I could ever imagine. Jesus lived a perfect life for me and died a death He didn't deserve. That perfect life and that death for my sins are credited to my account, and because of this, God loves me for Jesus' sake. So exactly what am I afraid of? That I'll discover that I'm not as good as I'd like to think I am? The gospel says that I'm not, but I have Christ's righteousness as a free gift. Afraid that you won't like me? God Himself is for me (Romans 8:31). Afraid that I'm not safe? God has committed Himself to my welfare (Romans 8:28). He loves me. I can trust Him.
As I believe this, I find the courage to begin interacting with you in new ways. As I focus on what I already have in Him instead of what you might think of me, I can resist the put-down that would make me feel superior than you, the clever joke at your expense. I approach relationships with less fear, and I'm less afraid to show you who I really am, because I'm secure in Christ's love, no matter what you think of me or how you treat me.
But I forget the truth about myself all the time, and return to living as though I have to establish my own reputation and protect myself. Here's where God is so patient with me. He never seems to tire of gently reminding me of His love, and of how He wants me to love others as He loves me, no matter how often I fail to do so. His gentleness gives me the courage to admit that I've blown it, instead of hiding in defensiveness and shame.
I'm not doing the Christian life perfectly, particularly in this area of my life. In fact, some days I'm not even doing it adequately! But as God gives me the grace to believe that He really loves me, I'm slowly changing. Will you join me in seeking to live kind, rather than witty, lives before His face? Jesus said that all people will know that we're His disciples if we have love for one another (John 13:35). You, too, can have the courage to live a more loving life if you're His, because He loves you.
I've watched some of these shows and read some of these web sites. I've cringed for those who are humiliated publicly, sometimes. Other times I've laughed at them.
You'd think that someone who's suffered shame and ridicule would never be amused to see someone else be treated that way. But if I'm honest, I have to admit that sometimes I enjoy it. I've also used my tongue to show how cool and clever I am at someone's expense. Why would I do this, knowing what I do about how it feels to have it done to me?
Those of us who've been hurt are sometimes the first to hurt others in similar ways. It seems as though this shouldn't happen, yet it does. Why?
Many of us who've survived painful experiences struggle constantly with feelings of inferiority. Some of us were told repeatedly that we were of no value to the ones we loved. Others were treated by others in ways that told us that we had no value. Our memories of mistreatment send us powerful messages about our inadequacy and inferiority--messages we hope aren't true, but fear that they are.
But we, who have been so deeply hurt ourselves, sometimes hurt others in an effort to prove that we aren't the losers we fear we are. After all, if we laugh at someone for their weaknesses, we can feel superior to them, at least for a while. If someone laughs at our clever remarks at another's expense, it can feel like proof that we're fun, popular--valuable. Some of us even use verbal aggressiveness as a shield to hold others at bay, in an attempt to protect ourselves from more hurt.
I find that I'm most tempted to fear others, or to tear down others to build myself up, when I've forgotten who I am already in Christ. I will feel inferior, insecure and unloved to the precise extent that I fail to believe the gospel. The truth is that I'm even worse than I feared. Apart from Christ I'm intensely self-centered: totally out for myself, just the kind of person who would tear someone else down to feel better about myself. I'm also the kind of person who would hurt someone else to make myself feel safe. I don't like to think of myself this way, but as I look back, not just at the memories where I'm a victim, but also at things I've done that I'm not proud of, I know that it's true. In fact, the Bible teaches that I'm capable of anything unless the God's grace restrains me. And so are we all. Fortunately that's not the whole story.
The gospel also tells me that I'm also loved more than I could ever imagine. Jesus lived a perfect life for me and died a death He didn't deserve. That perfect life and that death for my sins are credited to my account, and because of this, God loves me for Jesus' sake. So exactly what am I afraid of? That I'll discover that I'm not as good as I'd like to think I am? The gospel says that I'm not, but I have Christ's righteousness as a free gift. Afraid that you won't like me? God Himself is for me (Romans 8:31). Afraid that I'm not safe? God has committed Himself to my welfare (Romans 8:28). He loves me. I can trust Him.
As I believe this, I find the courage to begin interacting with you in new ways. As I focus on what I already have in Him instead of what you might think of me, I can resist the put-down that would make me feel superior than you, the clever joke at your expense. I approach relationships with less fear, and I'm less afraid to show you who I really am, because I'm secure in Christ's love, no matter what you think of me or how you treat me.
But I forget the truth about myself all the time, and return to living as though I have to establish my own reputation and protect myself. Here's where God is so patient with me. He never seems to tire of gently reminding me of His love, and of how He wants me to love others as He loves me, no matter how often I fail to do so. His gentleness gives me the courage to admit that I've blown it, instead of hiding in defensiveness and shame.
I'm not doing the Christian life perfectly, particularly in this area of my life. In fact, some days I'm not even doing it adequately! But as God gives me the grace to believe that He really loves me, I'm slowly changing. Will you join me in seeking to live kind, rather than witty, lives before His face? Jesus said that all people will know that we're His disciples if we have love for one another (John 13:35). You, too, can have the courage to live a more loving life if you're His, because He loves you.
How Do You Like Me So Far?
I was standing in
line in a crowded military pharmacy. My son Eric was only two years
old, and very sick with a high fever. We'd just seen the doctor, and he
said that Eric needed to start on his antibiotics immediately. Eric had
also been recently diagnosed with autism, but I didn't know much about
it yet. If I did, I'd have realized that the crowded, noisy pharmacy
was a set-up for a meltdown, because autistic kids have hypersensitive
hearing and find it hard to process lots of input at the same time.
Eric began to scream, and threw himself on the floor. Somehow, in the heat of the moment, I didn't realize that we could just leave this pharmacy and go to another. Instead, I tried to comfort Eric, but he just wouldn't stop screaming. Behind me an elderly woman said loudly, to no one in particular, "I always made sure my children behaved in public. Young people today don't know how to control their kids."
I remember the burning shame as if it were yesterday, as well as anger at being judged by someone who didn't know what I was facing. I was doing the best that I could! Perhaps most vividly, I remember the anger I felt toward myself, anger that I cared so much what a stranger thought.
In
response, I became even more of a control freak than I was before I had
him. I don't think that this was an altogether bad thing, at least not when he was small. (I'll blog another time on being a controlling parent during adolescence!) Eric's early
intervention therapists wanted me to be as consistent as possible with
him, and frankly, if I had less of a desire to get his behavior under
control, I don't think I would have been as consistent as I was. But I wasn't doing it just for him--I was doing it for me, too.
I remember the burning shame as if it were yesterday, as well as anger at being judged by someone who didn't know what I was facing. I was doing the best that I could! Perhaps most vividly, I remember the anger I felt toward myself, anger that I cared so much what a stranger thought. I
think that every sensitive mother struggles with embarrassment about
her child's behavior. But for me, Eric's autism felt like a life
sentence in condemnation hell! I was powerless over his condition, but
I wanted to be able to control him, so I wouldn't have to feel that
shame. The problem was, Eric was completely unpredictable, didn't
understand what I was telling him, and didn't respond to discipline in
those early days.
In my last post, I talked about how the desire to control often springs from fear. But there's another kind of fear that many of us struggle with--the fear of losing the approval of others. Yep, under that control freak exterior often lurks a committed people pleaser.
Many of us who've experienced hurts in the past have developed long, exquisitely sensitive antennas that are constantly in search of evidence that there may be a problem. For some of us, this was once a survival necessity. Being able to recognize in advance when that person was about to blow might buy us enough time to hide. But what started out as an early warning system has become a way of life for some of us. Even though we're no longer in danger, we're still trying to protect ourselves by figuring out what the important people in our lives want from us, and trying to give it to them. The problem is, we lose our true selves in the process.
Proverbs 29:25 says, "Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe." Can it really be that simple? When I recognize that I'm not being honest because of my people pleasing, I can draw in those antennas, and deliberately focus my mind on what God wants from me, rather than on what I think you want from me.
This will be a discouraging exercise, especially at first, because I'll constantly be catching myself adjusting my behavior to what I think are your expectations. But if I keep at it, I will begin to change. I'll also probably struggle with shame and condemnation, as I realize how often I'm failing. But I can counter this by reminding myself of the Gospel:
Many of us who've experienced hurts in the past have developed long, exquisitely sensitive antennas that are constantly in search of evidence that there may be a problem. For some of us, this was once a survival necessity. Being able to recognize in advance when that person was about to blow might buy us enough time to hide. But what started out as an early warning system has become a way of life for some of us. Even though we're no longer in danger, we're still trying to protect ourselves by figuring out what the important people in our lives want from us, and trying to give it to them. The problem is, we lose our true selves in the process.
Proverbs 29:25 says, "Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe." Can it really be that simple? When I recognize that I'm not being honest because of my people pleasing, I can draw in those antennas, and deliberately focus my mind on what God wants from me, rather than on what I think you want from me.
This will be a discouraging exercise, especially at first, because I'll constantly be catching myself adjusting my behavior to what I think are your expectations. But if I keep at it, I will begin to change. I'll also probably struggle with shame and condemnation, as I realize how often I'm failing. But I can counter this by reminding myself of the Gospel:
God didn't choose me because I'm good. He chose me because He is love.These truths give me the courage to keep trying to change. The ability to break even deeply embedded habits is the birthright of God's children. This one is such an integral part of who I've become that I could be tempted to despair. But the God who created me and planned all my days intends only good for me as I look to Him, in faith, to remake me in His image. Therefore I can have great hope.
God knew when He chose me that I'd fail to live by faith over and over again.
God sent His Son to live a perfect life in my place. When I trusted Christ, He gave me credit for Jesus' perfect record, and for Jesus' death on the cross for my sins.
I can rest my confidence in the fact that I have Jesus' perfect record and the Father's forgiveness, instead of riding an emotional roller-coaster between pride when I'm doing well, and despair when I'm not.
When I blow it, if I confess my failure He'll always forgive me, and give me the grace to keep practicing this new way of life by faith.
"And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into His image, from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit" (2 Corinthians 3:18).
About Me
I'm a medical doctor, trained as a psychiatrist, currently in practice as a biblical counselor, and the author of three books on counseling issues. As an abuse survivor, cancer survivor, and autism spectrum mother, I have a special burden for people who are experiencing storms in their lives. Click the HOME link on the menu bar to learn more about me, my books, and my ministry.
