Before my mind recalls the candid conversation, my body remembers.
The previous day a friend of mine, in the most loving way possible, pointed out some blind spots in my life. Subtle relationship infractions I have committed and tolerated for years. As a result I let the weight of my failures swing me into a trap of shame instead of the wide open compassion of God.
My eyes flutter open in slow motion. Light illuminates the shadows of night glowing between the cracks in my blinds. Within seconds of waking my breath sea-saws in shallow sighs as if constricted under a throw net. I try to free myself with a gusty deep breath. It doesn’t budge. Air only sifts through the web weighing me down.
A classic morning person, I swing my legs out of bed to jump into the day. But, upon standing, I slump with a heaviness I can only define as self-condemnation. The burden of it consumes my thoughts, you are a failure at relationships, how could you ever do anything useful? This label blinds me to my purpose, and commandeers my identity before 6am. I wrap my arms around this invisible sandbag of shame and trudge down the stairs to begin the day.
For the next several hours, passion projects disappear in my periphery. Dishes pile in the sink. And the couch beckons me like a cave collecting prisoners of war.
Shame is my kryptonite. Especially when it’s conceived from relationship failures.
Overwhelmed by my failure, I forget that God is the one who can turn me in the right direction so I “sin no more.” I should welcome God into my failure and ask Him to lead me into love and truth. Instead I gather a pile of rocks, link arms with the enemy, and lob stone cold accusations at myself hour after hour after hour.
“You’re a horrible person.”
“How could you let this happen? You’re a sucker.”
“You are too far gone to change.”
When shame exists, freedom does not. Or better said, when shame drives the boat, freedom watches from the shore. As a result, Im silent, my insides tornado with anxiety, and no one gets to see the real me. In addition, I betray myself, and I disobey one of the greatest commandments spoken through the lips of Love Himself.
Love your neighbor as you love yourself.
In other words, no one is getting any love, me or my neighbor, because shame-induced self-condemnation trumps my freedom to love and be loved.
Paul views self-condemnation this way (1 Corinthians 4:3-4 (NIV),
“… indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscious is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me.”
When God scans my soul under an x-ray machine revealing suspicious spots on my character, (like he did in that conversation with my friend) it’s not a death sentence. It’s an opportunity to heal. To make better choices going forward. And his kindness and gentleness will lead me to repentance. (Romans 2:4; Psalm 18:35)
For example, Peter considered himself the best disciple. And he, too, fell hard. He did the very thing He swore to his pal Jesus He would never do. God showed him the true character of his heart. And the burden of it nearly ended Peter. But God wasn’t trying to push him away. On the contrary, God stepped in closer. Afterwards, Jesus picked him up to start over. Peter, hesitant but trusting, gingerly stood up with a newfound humility. Not only did he start over, but God also planted him in a leadership position knowing full well, this failure wouldn’t be his last.
The truth is, we will fail. Also the truth: acknowledging our failures will not be the end of us.
A dear friend called me on the morning of my stoning and set me right. “Don’t let the enemy take you out, Tara. You are loved and lovable.”
Those words set me free. And not two days later I had an opportunity to make a better choice in the relationship I was beating myself up about.
“Baby steps,” another friend said. “Now that you know, make the right choices here on out one small step at a time.”
So put the darkness of shame and self-condemnation behind you. Let God search you. Surrender that position to Him, and resist the temptation to punish yourself. Self-punishment doesn’t absolve us anyway. It only obstructs love. We can’t undo our own lust or pride or prejudice with a beatdown. We can only honestly acknowledge it to Him and let love have its perfect work in us.
Because failure doesn’t mean we are unworthy of love. On the contrary, it is love that will heal us from our failures.
Join me on the gentle shores of His peace. Let the warm waves of His love lap over your sand sprinkled toes. Still feel like something is off and you can’t quite put your finger on it? Look behind you, it’s just His goodness and mercy hunting you down. (Psalm 23: 6)
Gulp down a swig from God’s mercy cup today. Free refills.
Lord, when I look at my life all I see are flaws. Big ones, little ones, and ghostly outlines of faults I can’t clearly define. Today, I surrender all of me to you. The good, the bad, and the ghosts. I surrender the inspection and redemption of my soul to You. I will fail, but it doesn’t mean I am unworthy of love. I recline into your love and mercy, today, so that more love and mercy can spill over into the lives of those around me.
God is too busy loving you to have any time left over to be disappointed.
-Fr. Gregory Boyle, Founder Homeboy Industries
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