Truth-Telling vs. Transformation

This past weekend, I was hit with the aftershock of self-induced drama. Feelings of constant nervousness bubbled-up right away, with my stomach and chest muscles tightening, as if they, too, were aware of this new yet reoccurring problem. Even when you have well-rehearsed recovery and counseling language at your disposal to accurately connect the dots that led to missteps, facing discomfort is never fun. It sucks, in fact, most especially when those poor choices begin haunting your daydreams and nightmares. In this particular moment, I started craving Chick-Fil-A‘s number one combo, paired with a Cookies and Cream milkshake. The physiological prompt to consume my all-time favorite fast-food meal, however, had nothing to do with hunger. Rather, it is a trigger of emotional recall that, at least in this instance, began my first year of marriage. Back then, I hit the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru almost every afternoon on my daily one-hour commute from work to home, on account of feeling that I was drowning under the weight of being disconnected from my family of origin. We were geographically close, living only 45 minutes or so away, but each day fallout amplified over when and where I got married, who I married, not to mention the mere fact that I simply got married in the first place. Combined with the awareness that I was severely ill-prepared in knowing how to be a wife, now that I was one overwhelming, to say the least. A crispy fried chicken sandwich, salty waffle fries, and the creamy mix of ice cream and Oreo cookies was relatively cheap, temporary self-medication to ease the pain when it showed its ugly face at the worst times, kind of like acid reflux.

Thirteen years later, I have thankfully made some strides and stopped my Chick-Fil-A runs, yes, but still remain far from having anything “all together.” I am a pastor’s wife undergoing reoccurring surgery for a calloused heart. Both the crux and fault lines of being a misunderstood first-born child remain in my life, and I have allowed my sharp tongue and pride to pierce friendships along the way. Even on my best day, I do not meet the conditions of being good enough. No amount of internal or external soothing, do-it-yourself solutions, or self-care can cure that, though. Only the intervention of what Jesus accomplished on the cross holds wonder-working power capable of keeping me from further surrendering to ratcheted, destructive tendencies, to embrace God’s love and the lifelong transformation toward righteousness that follows.

True deliverance, I am learning, necessitates a holistic understanding of Jesus’ atonement, which isn’t solely about a one-time acceptance of salvation, but instead complements constant mediation on God’s Word to refocus minds and hearts that are prone to wander. Living a consecrated life is impossible if all we do is work hard to keep our sin hidden. This only builds a false sense of self that renders us unable to access reality. We think we’ve come farther than we have because our problems are never dealt with. All we have done is employ smoke and mirrors to play the part of looking good. But God knows. Experiencing the kind of liberation Jesus died to give me means I must take my thought’s captive under the power of the Holy Spirit, to be able to say, as Paul did in Romans 7:25, “Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So, you see how it is: In my mind I really want to obey God’s law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin. Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” This is a proactive posture, not sitting around dissecting everyone else’s life. It requires me being candid with God, myself, and trusted others about what I battle with, and then choosing to exchange lies for truth, dysfunction for function, despair for hope. No one said it would be easy, but it is the Christian life.

If you are familiar with Glennon Doyle, you probably know that her New York Times bestselling memoirs include Love Warrior and Untamed. In Love Warrior, she describes truth-telling as her “shame checker and relief.” However, sharing some of the hidden, ugly parts of my story hasn’t been the biggest issue for me; it is refusing to stay committed to God and His truth while in the thick of the messiness long enough to experience sustained transformation. Following God is a revolution that overtakes all corners of your life, not a little renovation project that is done in a few weekends. My pleasures, whatever they are, all must fall in compliance to God’s best for me. Although it only welcomes extra chaos and grief every time, however, like a seesaw I teeter back into normalizing additive and dysfunctional living quite easily, not merely to make others comfortable, but to satisfy my own fleshy wants. When I really think about it, it is scary how much we will succumb to low-level living and accept the demons of our lives as normal or our only option. I get it because after the initial truth-telling session, many of us do not know what to do next. And even if we do, frankly, uncovering the ensuing layers of pain and shame takes a lot of energy.

But what is truth, anyhow? Even in our search for it, as noted in John 8, without Christ we are limited in understanding so much on account of the human condition. At some point, all the innovative tactics and deep pondering we can muster will fail. Sin is more powerful than effort alone. Our hearts are deceitful and untrustworthy. Though valid and essential to higher ordered being like us, feelings are as crazy as the weather forecast of any day in Texas. Just wait awhile and it will change. Possessing every intelligible scrap of information about our circumstances doesn’t necessarily, in itself, propel people to change. Walking humbly with God is not about pep talks, self-help literature, or empowerment conferences, it is about applying what He has said is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, and excellent or praiseworthy to life. (Philippians 4:8) And we need to do so without excuse or apology, detaching ourselves from the mantra we know from Shakespeare’s Hamlet that, as Polonius says, “This above all: to thine own self be true.”

We should fix our gaze on God and embrace his promises, even all-the-more amid despair and confusion. Obedience to God for Christians is a core tenant of what we believe. We don’t instruct God how to do His job or demand that He enable us to live according to our aspirations, He tells us what is best. That always involves possibly walking away from who we want to be, so that we can pursue the most faithful version of ourselves God has already emboldened us to be. It is through genuine discipleship that we have the real answers needed for the journey ahead. Regardless of what harm we’ve caused in the past, to ourselves and others, today lets you and I lean on the everlasting truth of Jesus Christ because this life will pass away, but God’s Word will not (Isaiah 40:8, Matthew 24:35). When this earthly reality ends, I want my life’s work to clearly indicate that I loved what God loved and hated what God hated. How about you? What do you want the “truth” you lived to reveal?