Awhile back, maybe even
before we rejoined the church, I was sitting in my hairstylist’s chair
listening to her talk about her relationship with her husband. This was not the first time she’d shared with
me about him; seems like they have a difficult time of it on occasion. This particular day, she was telling me about
an argument they’d had over something or another and how, in the midst of it,
he muttered a few words to her that apparently stopped her in mid-sentence. As she explained it to me; “Like, what he said made me totally stop
what I was saying because I was, like, totally convicted. You know?
I mean, C-O-N-V-I-C-T-E-D! So,
like, I had to totally apologize to him and admit that I was like, totally
convicted”. Yes, she really does speak this way; all in a rush and full of enthusiasm. I
recall being a bit bemused, at that point in time not really understanding what
she was going on about with being “convicted”.
Frankly, it didn’t sound that great to me; bringing to mind standing in
front of a judge and having the book thrown at you for some crime or another.
A few years and many hours
of Bible study and discussion later, I realize that I did have it partially
correct but, like so many people, I mistook one “C” word for another and went
down a much harsher path with it than I should have.
What she was expressing to
me was this; what her husband said to her made her realize (at least in that
moment) that he was right about something and she was wrong. She was, in essence, guilty as charged, which
is why she admitted to being convicted.
If you follow the courtroom scene I was thinking of, this makes sense. You do something wrong. You are found guilty. You are convicted. And, hopefully, you serve your sentence and
learn something from the experience.
Certainly, this is what society desires for those who screw up enough to
end up in prison; that they’ll eventually come out the other side having learned a
valuable lesson, ready to contribute to the good of all. The fact that we as a society don’t make this
very easy to accomplish is disheartening.
What happens more often than not is the person is not just convicted,
they are written off as a matter of course.
They are condemned.
And what do most condemned
people do? They lose hope. They think their life has no purpose. They give up on everything and everyone,
including themselves.
I don’t know many people who
have spent time in a physical prison, but I know plenty who have spent too much
time in prisons of other sorts. I’ve
hung out in some myself and I put myself there.
We all do.
My primary prison has been
what I’ve come to think of as The Prison of Perfection. On the surface, it doesn’t sound like such a
bad place but it’s full of false facades, useless stairwells that go nowhere
and hidden trap doors. In short, it’s a
deceptively evil place to be. In plain English, I have to guard against wanting
everything to be perfect. A no brainer,
you’d think, since, logically, this just can’t be. Yet, this desire sneaks up on me and either
fills me with envy, coveting and dissatisfaction; or, worse; discouragement,
despair and (ultimately) depression.
I’ve
been trying very hard these past few weeks to not complain, which means I’ve
worked on focusing on the positive aspect of every situation. To be sure, I’ve had some challenges during
this Lenten Journey; however, it’s not necessarily been these that have caused
me to stumble in my resolve, likely because I’ve been fully aware of them and
so have been “armed” to deal with my reaction.
No, one or two times, something has happened that caught me unawares and
my resulting behavior was something less to be desired. I illustrate the following because it’s a “perfect”
example of what the trap of desiring perfection in oneself can result in.
Our
Disciple class meets Wednesday nights.
Mr. B is co-leading the class with our friend Tracey; they’ve been
alternating back and forth between who leads, which mainly means, they follow
the leader’s guide’s instructions in order to cover pertinent points and to
keep the discussion on track. Since we’ve
been meeting with this group almost two years, we’re really more like a big
bunch of friends hanging out discussing the Bible than an actual class. Anyway, this past Wednesday, Tracey was
supposed to lead, which was a good thing since Mr. B was going to be a
CPA-Zombie (it being the day after tax day).
A few days before, Tracey told Mr. B she wasn’t going to be there since
she had all three of her grandkids visiting.
She knew this might put him in a difficult spot, so, she suggested I
lead the class. Mr. B asked me, “How would
you like to lead Disciple on Wednesday?” and explained to me why. For whatever reason (I can only plead my own
share of tiredness and frustration), this irritated me and I did not react
graciously to the request. After ranting
for a while about how unfair it was that Tracey should think I had nothing
better to do than prepare for a class on top of everything else I was already doing,
I went into pout mode and Mr. B took himself wearily off to bed.
Well,
after sitting by myself in the kitchen for a few moments, a deep sense of shame
washed over me. I mean, we’d just been
studying in our previous Disciple class about answering the call when it came,
and here I’m offered an opportunity to lead our group (a very safe environment,
too) in a discussion about God’s word, and I acted like a two year old. I saw Tracey’s suggestion that I lead was, in
actuality, a compliment, a voice of confidence in me that I could do it; not a
suggestion that I was sitting around eating bon-bons and needed something Godly
to do. I got up and went into the
bedroom and told a half asleep Mr. B that I’d be happy to do it.
I
should have felt better, but I didn’t. I
spent the better part of the night beating myself up for my terrible
behavior. I felt like I not only let Mr.
B down, but God down, too. Maybe I’d
just never get this “Christian” thing right, after all. I would never be perfect at it, I was always
going to screw up so why bother? I was
condemning myself to be complete failure; preparing myself to give up.
The
next morning I woke up still agitated with myself. I sat down to do my morning prayers,
devotional readings, and Bible study.
After telling God during the “confessional” part of my prayer routine
what a total schmuck I was (as if He didn’t already know what I’d done), I
opened up that day’s reading from The Upper Room, which was a woman from
Georgia comparing her daughter’s frustration with learning to play the piano
with the frustrations Christians feel when they fail. She wrote, “Sometimes we set unrealistic expectations for our faith. We accept Christ as our Savior and think we
should instantly have perfect lives…But just like playing the piano, maturing
in faith takes practice. Faith is like a
muscle that needs to be worked in order to grow and stay strong. The more we read the Bible and spend time
with God in prayer, the stronger we become in our faith”.
I
was discouraged, despairing (of myself) and bordering on being depressed, yet I
took the time that morning to be with God, and this is what “just happened” to
be in the reading for that specific day.
Further, this is what my other devotional, “Jesus Calling”, told me that
same morning:
“Trust me in every detail of
your life. Nothing is random in My
Kingdom. Everything that happens fits
into a pattern for good, to those who love Me…Even your mistakes and sins can
be recycled into something good, through My transforming grace”.
Which
made me think of Romans 8:1-2: “There is
therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ
Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death”.
In
other words, yes, I screwed up. I knew it,
I was convicted of it and I made the best out of it by reversing course. No need to condemn myself, to give up.
Guess
who wants me to do that?
Our
Pastor said once that he answered the question, “What would you do if you knew you would not fail?” with “I’ll be a Christian even though I know that
I will fail”.
God
does not want perfection. He wants persistence. He knows we’re going to screw up, He just
doesn’t want us to give up.
Convicted? Maybe.
Condemned? Never.
“For God so loved the world
that He gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish
but may have eternal life”.
John 3:16
Because
of the cross, I will choose persistence.
Mrs.
B
