The call to transparency. Do we all have it? I'm not sure, to be honest. I know that when I mess up or fall short, the Lord often prompts me to write about it - transparently. On the other hand, I know of others who don't feel led to go international with the innermost details of their lives or to even divulge the intimacies with family and friends, but instead find solace in the arms of Jesus - privately. Sometimes, I wish that was my allotment, but once again, I find myself called to share - publicly. If you've read some of my recent posts, it's no secret that difficult times have arisen and the descent of the valley has been low. And steep. With jagged rocks and ominous boulders. I've fallen more than once and was even bitten by a dog along the way. It hurt. So has the venom of various snakes that have spit words of hatred my way in recent weeks, but the most painful thing wasn't the bite or venom; it was the revelation of my own sin in an area I had completely overlooked throughout the last several years. When God pulled back the veil and I saw the reflection staring back at me, I began to sob. I didn't know until He showed me just how badly I had grieved the heart of not only God, but also some of the people I love most. The revelation was painfully clear, and even though it was delivered through arms of grace and love and necessary correction (Hebrews 12:6), His Spirit felt far from me as I lamented my behavior. So, what do we do when God places a spiritual mirror in front of us to illuminate our own sin? We "go, and sin no more." (John 8:11).
So, what was this painful revelation? What sin had I committed that was so grievous? In one word, I had been selfish. We don't typically think of selfishness as such an overwhelming indiscretion that changes the trajectory of our lives, but in this case, it did. Philippians 2:3-4 in the Amplified Bible says "Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit (through factional motives or strife), but with an attitude of humility (being neither arrogant or self-righteous), regard others as more important than yourselves. Do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." I have failed significantly in this area since 2015 when my marriage at that time began to crumble. Lost in the sea of severed relationships and an uncertain identity, I embarked on a journey that took me all over the country in search of self, but in my quest to discover me, I lost much and hurt many.
Following my divorce, I finished my doctoral degree, had a baby, and then, in the interest of a new start, packed up and left California. From 2018 to 2020, I, along with my two children, ages 15 and 3, have moved a total of seven times. Since the first move in January 2018, we have now lived in Indiana, Philadelphia, Hawaii, Texas, and are currently back in California. Each time, I justified the move as a necessary step to boost my career as a psychologist, and never mind the fact that my son was now learning how to not become attached to people and places. The friends he made during our brief stays in new locations soon faded into the background as he helped me to pack the car again for the next big adventure. As I focused on my career, he developed the tool of detachment. While a part of me wouldn't trade the hardships and struggles of each transition, I can take a more honest inventory now of the damage I did in my own selfish pursuits. My son paid the higher price. And that is a sting that pierces the heart when realized.
Because of my daughter's age during these moves, she was impacted less, but in the present I have managed to inflict equally devastating harm to her as well. Because of the marriage I chose to enter into, my daughter is now separated from me, seeing me only briefly for the time being. This isn't to say I regret marrying my husband, because I don't, but I do recognize various things I could have done differently. Hindsight - the friend who kisses you with a dagger to your chest. The pain I feel over not being able to see her daily is indescribable and I wouldn't wish it on any parent, but at some point we have to be willing to take ownership of our own role in the life we've been given. This is mine. These are my missteps. I was building a career, but forsaking a family, and now I'm left with none of it. Not even the career. What have you sacrificed in pursuit of self? Your health? Loved ones? Something or someone else? Jesus doesn't condemn you, but He will convict you. Let Him.
Selfishness came dangerously easy to me, so it's an area I must daily surrender to the Lord, but knowing our shortcomings is never a bad thing. On the contrary, if received with humility and a willingness to repent and change, correction is a blessing. Proverbs 12:1 says that "whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid." What can I say, it's one of the most direct verses in the Bible, and if it offends you to read, then you're probably among those who hate correction. 😬 Receive the Lord's discipline. Even when it hurts. Be brave enough to ask Him to show you to you. The night before my own failures became crystal clear, I prayed a simple "God, please show me to me and reveal any sin in me that I might not be hindered in my walk with you and with men." Less than 24 hours later, the mirror was provided, and though it cut, it healed. My heart broke, but Psalm 24:18 says "the Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." The willingness to be honest with yourself about yourself is not for the faint of heart, so be prepared for some things to get messy and painful, but then get ready. The forgiving balm of God's love will propel you forward into good things. So, in the meantime, go...and sin no more.
So, what was this painful revelation? What sin had I committed that was so grievous? In one word, I had been selfish. We don't typically think of selfishness as such an overwhelming indiscretion that changes the trajectory of our lives, but in this case, it did. Philippians 2:3-4 in the Amplified Bible says "Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit (through factional motives or strife), but with an attitude of humility (being neither arrogant or self-righteous), regard others as more important than yourselves. Do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." I have failed significantly in this area since 2015 when my marriage at that time began to crumble. Lost in the sea of severed relationships and an uncertain identity, I embarked on a journey that took me all over the country in search of self, but in my quest to discover me, I lost much and hurt many.
Following my divorce, I finished my doctoral degree, had a baby, and then, in the interest of a new start, packed up and left California. From 2018 to 2020, I, along with my two children, ages 15 and 3, have moved a total of seven times. Since the first move in January 2018, we have now lived in Indiana, Philadelphia, Hawaii, Texas, and are currently back in California. Each time, I justified the move as a necessary step to boost my career as a psychologist, and never mind the fact that my son was now learning how to not become attached to people and places. The friends he made during our brief stays in new locations soon faded into the background as he helped me to pack the car again for the next big adventure. As I focused on my career, he developed the tool of detachment. While a part of me wouldn't trade the hardships and struggles of each transition, I can take a more honest inventory now of the damage I did in my own selfish pursuits. My son paid the higher price. And that is a sting that pierces the heart when realized.
Because of my daughter's age during these moves, she was impacted less, but in the present I have managed to inflict equally devastating harm to her as well. Because of the marriage I chose to enter into, my daughter is now separated from me, seeing me only briefly for the time being. This isn't to say I regret marrying my husband, because I don't, but I do recognize various things I could have done differently. Hindsight - the friend who kisses you with a dagger to your chest. The pain I feel over not being able to see her daily is indescribable and I wouldn't wish it on any parent, but at some point we have to be willing to take ownership of our own role in the life we've been given. This is mine. These are my missteps. I was building a career, but forsaking a family, and now I'm left with none of it. Not even the career. What have you sacrificed in pursuit of self? Your health? Loved ones? Something or someone else? Jesus doesn't condemn you, but He will convict you. Let Him.
Selfishness came dangerously easy to me, so it's an area I must daily surrender to the Lord, but knowing our shortcomings is never a bad thing. On the contrary, if received with humility and a willingness to repent and change, correction is a blessing. Proverbs 12:1 says that "whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid." What can I say, it's one of the most direct verses in the Bible, and if it offends you to read, then you're probably among those who hate correction. 😬 Receive the Lord's discipline. Even when it hurts. Be brave enough to ask Him to show you to you. The night before my own failures became crystal clear, I prayed a simple "God, please show me to me and reveal any sin in me that I might not be hindered in my walk with you and with men." Less than 24 hours later, the mirror was provided, and though it cut, it healed. My heart broke, but Psalm 24:18 says "the Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." The willingness to be honest with yourself about yourself is not for the faint of heart, so be prepared for some things to get messy and painful, but then get ready. The forgiving balm of God's love will propel you forward into good things. So, in the meantime, go...and sin no more.
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