Pride: Strong wall and poisoned well

The poster boy for pride doesn't represent my pride well.

I've always thought that pride was like what we see in Disney movies: a boastful character with a pumped-up chest, usually wearing bright red and demanding attention from everyone around him. Picture Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. They're full of themselves, they're the best at everything and  tend to be woefully unbearable.

But I've begun to see pride differently. Pride might be what makes you turn down food stamps, or keep quiet about depression. It is holds silent the cries of people who are too afraid to look weak and instead bury themselves in all the good-looking things they can muster.

Basically, pride is a refusal to admit to my shortcomings and become vulnerable.

That's a little eye opening, isn't it? Pride is a crippling, undermining disease. It keeps me isolated in more ways than one, filling my heart with fear of my wrongdoings being unearthed. The result isn't safety or protection. All that happens is that, over time, the seeds of doubt, loneliness, depression and darkness take hold and grow into strongholds. The longer they grow, the more embarrassing they become and so we build our prideful little walls even higher.

"Look at my mighty fortress," I might tell my friends. "Look how tough the gate is, and how sturdy the foundation!"

All the while, there's a death spreading through the well water, poisoning the occupants. And if I'm so terrified of coming out of my shell, I'll waste away and not improve.

Why the siege? Fear of judgement, maybe. It's easier to tell my problems to a stranger than to a friend -- there's no accountability, and no reason for them to look at me any differently. There's zero vulnerability in a meeting like that, and the sole benefit is to simply get the words off my chest and go about my business.

But the poison is still in the well.

And I think that's why Christ told us to seek the fellowship of other believers. The disciples were in a group of 12, not each one on his own. The missionaries in the early church often went in pairs, not alone. The early church worshiped together, ate together, prayed together and died together.

It's like I wrote about a few weeks — months? — ago: the lone sheep will get picked off by the wolf. That post was talking about clinging to God, but I think the wisdom goes just as far when referring to other believers. I can't sit on an island and hope to see any change.

Here's where pride rears its head once again: I'll pray and ask God for things reluctantly, feeling guilty because I'm somehow not worthy or not good enough to ask — yet. Give me some time, God, and I'll have worked hard and cleaned myself up. Then you can take over.

Except it doesn't work that way. I won't ever get to the point where I'm good enough, and while that doesn't warrant throwing up my hands in defeat, it does mean I should be transparent with God from the beginning.

What is the point of pride, anyway? A prideful person sets themselves apart from others. The longer you stay that way, the more people begin to believe that you're alright on your own, even when you're not. The longer I stay this way, the more I begin to believe I can handle my problems, even when I can't.

I was going to type out a little prayer for me to remember and attempt to live by, and it was going to begin with something along the lines of asking God to cut down my pride and humble me. And even though it's with growth and healing in mind, that's terrifying — and rather so. Being humbled and made vulnerable to others is a scary thought for me, which again gives credence to the idea of pride being a response to fear.

For me, then, this is more appropriate:

Lord make me brave enough to become vulnerable, and help me to see my growth and rebuilding in spite of the fear vulnerability brings. Help me to be humble enough to ask for help when I need it, and to seek fellowship in order to stay that way.

The 12-step process: Honesty

When I started my journey through the 12 steps of recovery from sin a week ago, I think I undersold the first step a little more than I meant to. This afternoon as I sat down at Starbucks with a few hours to kill and mind set on tacking the second step, but I'm beginning to realize that there's a lot more depth to do with honesty than two short paragraphs can cover.

I made a concerted effort to be forthcoming about a sin of mine to Alexis my girlfriend this week, and that was a great stride. Awesome. Yes. More of that transparency will do me good and it builds a foundation on which she and I (or any of my other friends and I) can communicate with trust.

What I struggle with, though, is exactly why honesty is so difficult.

Initially, I blamed it on my vanity. I know that I struggle with self image and self esteem, and an easy way for me to feel accepted or impressive (at least in my own eyes) is to hide the bad-spots in my life. If I ignore those things and hide them from others, I think, perhaps they'll see me in a better light.

And for quite a long time, I haven't really seen omission as dishonesty. Is it really lying if you simply leave out bits and pieces of yourself? Nobody needs to hear those things, right? In some ways, that's correct. I don't think I need to go about spilling my deep dark secrets to the whole world, but if I'm living in a way that makes me uncomfortable with a transparent life, something is wrong. You can sin both by COMmission and by OMission. It's the same thing, because they're both methods of twisting the truth.

In either case, it's my living in sin and my shame that keeps me from being honest about how I live. Living in sin and shame - though Christ has freed us from guilt - is a vicious cycle. The longer you hide in sin, the more difficult it is to step out and ask for help, making honesty about your life - my life - really the only way out.

Even from the secular point of view, dishonesty is almost always about self-preservation. It can be embarrassing to be forthright. This world isn't always forgiving, and it's a reasonable fear to think you might lose friends by being open about your past or your present. Fear of being hurt, fear of being alone and fear of shame cripple us, but I think that those who claim Christ as savior have less of an excuse.

Isn't it then about trust? As I mentioned before, I don't think that transparency is about displaying your past for all to see, but trusting God to handle your future and trusting God to handle your relationships (friends, family, etc.) is a major step. God often uses our neighbors as tools to bring healing, and being open with our walk also opens us up to God's ability to change us for the better. Lying, omitting the truth and being closed off does exactly the opposite.

With all that said, it's a mystery why I cling to my over-inflated self image. Maybe it's because I seem to think I'll only get places in life if people like me, instead of trusting God to open up opportunities for me. It's not pride, as I previously surmised, but fear. And the only way to conquer fear is faith.

Wait, faith is step two? Good golly.

The 12-step process: Sin as an addiction

I'd argue that addiction isn't just to alcohol, meth or coffee. You can get addicted to sin.

I caught myself, a few days back, driving home from work and looking down my nose at the drunkard who had only just stumbled from the bar down the street from my apartment.

It's a common occurrence with this man in particular, and every time I see him slowly making his way up the sidewalk to who knows where, I picture his life - filthy home, broken-down car, no money to speak of save the dollars spent on alcohol and an emptiness that comes from wasting a lifetime as a drunkard.

I picture those things, and pity the man.

"Thank you, Lord," I think to myself. "Thank you for blessing me and giving me the support and tools I needed to keep out of addiction to drugs and alcohol."

This afternoon, though, as I drove home from the office for lunch, the thought struck me that I am not so different.

After all, how similar are sin and alcoholism?

Take for example, an excerpt from the Alcoholics Anonymous' first step to recovery, but switch 'alcohol' with 'sin'.

"When sin begins to take control of a family, usually one of the first things to go is honesty. The sinner lies about how much he or she sins and those around them begin to cover for him as the problem progresses and they too become less than honest.

This cycle of lies and keeping secrets can go on for years and that in itself can create an atmosphere that actually causes the situation to deteriorate faster. Even the children get caught up in the lies. It's a family disease.

The family can become totally controlled by diseased thinking. Although the illusion of control may continue, their lives become unmanageable, because sin is really in control. It is cunning, baffling, and powerful."

Telling, isn't it? Now, I'll make it clear that once we accept the love of Christ, we are no longer bound by sin and it no longer has power over us. It's not really in control, and it becomes a choice, but at the point of acceptance of Christ, we should also accept and be honest that we are - or were - in fact, sinners.

Australian pastor Glen Scrivener, who has blogged extensively on the subject, puts it beautifully in his entry from 2010: Sin is addiction.

"Sin is a power over us that is disarmed and replaced by Christ," he says, arguing that the gospel of grace depends on the fact that we are helpless to escape sin without God's gift and Christ's sacrifice.

In that light, though the process of salvation begins with that admittance, we will never get to a point in our lives where we can function free of sin without the love and grace given to us on the cross.

Like a recovering alcoholic - they're never a 'former alcoholic,' but rather constantly in recovery - we will always rely on God to build and support us as we work to become more like him.

Yes, Christ gave us victory over sin, but we still live in a sin-ridden world and won't be free from temptation until we are with him in glory.

With that said, I want to start on a journey to apply the 12-step process to sin itself. I have my sinful habits which, when compared to the drunken man at the bar, begin to look a lot more like addiction than I'd ever seen them.

In the 12-step process, honesty is the first step to recovery and not surprisingly, it is the only way to build a foundation for a life in Christ. Honesty about past wrongdoings, honesty about current habits and honesty about future fears and insecurities NEED to be put on the table in some form or another in order to heal and allow Christ to chase out the lies and rebuild the truths about us.

It's uncomfortable for me. I've discovered my vanity over the last few months, and to admit wrongdoing regardless of the severity, would tarnish my self-projected image.
That's something that I'll have to work on as I think and meditate on this first step. How can I work on getting my pride out of the way?

Hebrews 10:24-25: Oil and Water

   

'Cause yeh get this when you search for "fellowship" nowadays.

     So often, I'll step back, take a look at myself and frustratingly decide to change things. This happens every few months, and I make a little progress each time before falling back to the status quo.
     That sucks. A lot.
     And what's more is that I can SEE the steps I take each time, and I usually have little to no idea what led me off track. It either changes each time, or it is simply that - time. Fervor fades as new challenges arise, and that is something that few people can escape. We all do this, whether it's coming home from summer camp, or simply returning to our lives after church on Sunday.
     That sucks too. Because if we all do it, then why don't we all work together to SOLVE it? Doesn't the good book have guidance on this? Oh wait, it does. Yeah.
     Chew on this:
"24 And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, 25 not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near." - Hebrews 10:24-25
     On the surface, that's church, right? Pot-lucks and Sunday school and a camping trip in the summertime? Sure. That stuff is great, but it needs to be deeper than that. You can live for decades in a church and remain as stagnant as you were when you walked in the door.
     According to the author of Hebrews (maybe Paul, maybe not) we should spend time pondering ways to STIR UP our brethren in Christ, and rejoice in their good works and growth! That can be a little uncomfortable.

Wait, you guys eat this stuff? Ew. 

     Complacency, stagnancy, "the status quo," being comfortable - compare that with a bottle of salad dressing for a minute here. If left sitting, all of the good things settle to the bottom, leaving just the oil on the top. Unless you want tasteless oil poured on your greens, you first have to stir up the bottle so that it can be used.
     We too are like that. If I am walking in sin - knowingly or unknowingly - shake me! If I live next to you and am vague about my relationship with Christ, shake me! I don't WANT to be complacent and comfortable. I want to be surrounded and immersed with the positives, so that the whims of the evil one have no hold on me.
     You want to solve the periods in your life when your spiritual high falls by the wayside? THAT is how. Allow yourself to be shaken. ASK to be shaken, and in turn be willing to step out and do the same.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it.

Sometimes, I feel the need to disconnect.
But I'll get to that later.

Being honest right off the bat, these last two months have been awesome on the job. Spiritually, I can't say the same. As much energy and vibrance as graces my new career, my walk with the Lord is equally stagnant. How can something so important and so rooted in my heart get put on pause? How can I drift so easily? Why is it so difficult to repent - again - and reinvigorate my relationship?

Ugh. I've been asking these things for some time now. About a month ago, I took an early morning walk up to a new, secret place and had an excellent time of reflection and prayer. During that time I asked God to be so SO present in my life, that He would be impossible to ignore. And oh, how He has answered that prayer in ways I couldn't imagine.

What the last few months have shown me, in reflection, is that no matter how far I run, no matter how hard I try to hide, I can never escape the love of God. Never. At every turn and in each passing moment, God's presence becomes so threaded into my day that I have to actively work to shut it out. It's a constant reminder - I'm here, I'm here... 

It makes it more powerful that the Lord chose to love me in the first place. I'm not a particularly patient person, and I can't speak much to how many chances I would give were the places switched. Jesus said to forgive seventy times seven. Endless, depthless, ceaseless forgiveness. I understand that a little better now. If God has been faithful to forgive my transgressions, then surely he will be faithful as we walk forward.

I want to focus on where to go next. That's my nature, to look ahead (I write previews for sporting events each week) and figure out what path to take and how to move on from here. This time, I think I'll leave that be. My head understands that I can't run, but does my heart know it? This morning we sang "Create in me a clean heart, O God." Yes, please. This one isn't any good.

I need to bask in this forgiveness, and let it sink in.

For, prone to wander, Lord, I feel it! Prone to leave the God I love! Take my heart, Lord take and seal it. Seal it for Thy throne above.

The Sigh and Song of Solomon

Russet the she-kitten enjoys my shoulders immensely.

I've reminded myself of Solomon plenty of times over the past few months.

Maybe if I get my own place I'll find fulfillment. Once I get a job I really enjoy that makes me more money, I'll be happy. I just need to eat dinner, or take a long shower, or have a girlfriend or get a kitten (the two may be interchangeable) and I'll be out of the doldrums. The thing is, I've done all that stuff, minus the girlfriend bit, and I haven't suddenly been filled with joy and had all the paths in my life straitened out. Even with little Russet the kitten laying upside down and aggressively licking my elbow, life still doesn't make sense. There are still hardships and loneliness and difficult days and weeks and months.

You see, Solomon tried the same thing. He filled a palace with riches, was the smartest and most powerful man in the world, and had (count them) hundreds of wives. And just as Solomon discovered, none of that changes apart from the Lord. All of the things I listed for myself - and most of them are good things to want - will fade in time, leaving only the bare bones of whatever it was I started with.

Now is time for a much bigger step in the Redemptive Process. I tire of all the quick, temporary fixes to the aching in my heart. It's not about switching up my diet or adding a precious pet to my life, it's about reinventing my world view. It's about simply spending time with the Lord who created me and bonding my heart to his so that I won't stray as I do.

As for solutions, I'll pray and wait patiently. Several that immediately come to mind are obvious. More time in the word being the number one, as well as finding an older and wiser man of God that I can walk with and be accountable to in every facet of my life. Someone that is comfortable making me UNcomfortable, which I have been craving these past months especially.

It's time to break out of the routine. It's time to take off the bandaid and let the gaping wounds heal. It's time to step forward.

Proverbs 16:3 - Hiding from Omnipotence

Not much relevancy. Just... beard.

At church this morning, the preacher had an interesting point that I want to stick with me. He said that, should we wonder whether something is within God's will, see if we are comfortable asking for God's blessing. Obviously that doesn't always work, but it does force us to take the second and consider the motivations and consequences of things.

It's like asking permission from your parents to do something. If you feel like you have to change and twist the story of what you're about to do in order to make it sound ok and get approved, odds are you probably shouldn't be doing it. Or at least you'll get in trouble when you're found out.

Things work in a similar fashion with God. It's an extreme, but saying "Lord, please bless this robbery I'm about to attempt. May I not get shot and may I get away with loads of cash" makes so little sense it's ridiculous to ask. Instead, we ask God to provide money for us and just so happen to leave out that we plan on robbing the bank on the way home from church.

How to fix  that, then? It's our nature to hide our wrongdoings from God. Look at Adam and Eve - they ran and hid from God after they had sinned. Whether it's out of embarrassment or fear, we all do it. What is it that I need to change in order to reverse that habit?

I haven't put a whole lot of thought into the matter as of yet (part of my movement to blog in the moment), but initially, I think it's part of the sanctification process and an issue of trust. Hiding anything from anyone nearly always means that we're afraid of the reaction. Hiding a broken toy from mamma, concealing a stain in the carpet in a new apartment, hiding a little extra weight behind loose fitting clothing: it's all because the reaction might not be something we want.

Joseph followed after God, and he was made successful,
to God's glory. Also, his family kinda sucked.

It makes a little more sense to do that between humans, because not all humans are the same. They judge, they're unpredictable, some of us are downright mean spirited.

But God isn't.

The broken toy would get a timeout. The stain on the carpet would take money out of the security deposit, and the imperfect body depends on the person, but God isn't that way. Yes, there are consequences for our sins and our habits, but that doesn't change the fact that God LOVES us. That, coupled with the fact that God knows what we've done, what we continue to do, and where our hearts lie, takes away any and all reasons for dishonesty with God.

We'll have to deal with the consequences of what we do in this world, but being honest with God throughout the day and night, in constant conversation, goes a long ways toward preventing those mistakes that make us want to hide. In time, transparency (our mindset, at least) becomes the new norm, the new habit.

Today's life verse sums it up better than I could. Proverbs 16:3 says that if we put God in our heart and consult him on our plans, then our plans will be blessed. I'll most likely revisit this subject again, but for now I'll take this and treasure it:

"Turn to the Lord for help in everything you do, and you will be successful." - Proverbs 16:3 (ETRV)

Psalm 6:8 - The Voice of My Weeping

They had to cage me to shave me. That was definitely a low point.

I find it all to easy to ignore the issues that I struggle with or the problems that I've waded through and simply put them in a little box that has "solved" scribbled on the side. That is particularly easy because it's much more pleasant to remember the highs and the victories than it is to recall the low points that made each victory so sweet.

That means that I'll have to work at blogging in the present. Sure, it's good to look into the past, but it's also important to capture the feeling of the moment, as David often does in psalms. Some of the verses are nakedly honest, showing David's entire thought process.

Take Psalm 6, for example. David lays his heart out, displaying his fears, his tears, and his shortcomings. Then, as David often does, He turns his eyes to the Lord and takes hope. What an incredible example! It's ok to be bare-bones honest with God, He already knows your thoughts!

This honesty is definitely something that needs work in me, and there is no better time to start than the present.

About a month ago, basketball season was finishing for the athletic league that I worked for. Spring sports were on their way, and I was looking forward to another season, as well as a comfortable raise. I finally made a move on a precious little apartment. I'd be living cheaply, but it was something I could afford. Then, two days after signing the agreement, I was informed that my contract had run out two weeks previously, and that because of some serious money shortfalls, the league couldn't afford to keep me.

Much better.

I'm at work at my coffee shop with four hours left on my shift, I've lost my job and a major portion of my income, and I have an apartment I can't afford. It wasn't panic (close, but not quite) that set in, it was a deep and gripping fear and hints of doubt. Why would God give me a job and give me a raise, find me an apartment and then take it all away in an instant? Where would I live? What would I eat? I asked for nothing more than to finish my shift before I fell apart.

And not an hour later, I got my answer. A woman came up to the counter and, after taking her order, handed me a business card and told me to give her a call, that they might have a job in marketing and social media. I was speechless. I haven't called yet (I plan to), but I learned something invaluable that day. It's just as I posted on Facebook shortly after getting that fateful call: when the good Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.

What I'll take with me from that experience is this: Just like when Abram moved everything he owned far away from the home that he knew for a reason he didn't know, trusting that God would provide for him, when the Lord tell me to jump, I have to trust that His hands will be there to catch me. That is even if and especially if the landing isn't clear.

"Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity; the Lord hath heard the voice of my weeping." - Psalm 6:8