Lies We Believe

A recently-divorced friend (call her Peggy, since I have no friends by that name) posted on Facebook, "I read that my kids will remember my attitude more than the things I tried to teach them.  It made me cry, because my kids had me during the worst years of my life, when I was a stressed-out, depressed person.  That's not who I really am.  I'm sorry, kids - I wish it could have been different."

This troubled me, but I had to think about it quite a while before I realized why.  The lies Peggy believes are so thick that it's hard to untangle them and evaluate them one at a time.

1.  I'm not me some of the time.  This friend and her husband dealt with some very difficult circumstances.  Unfortunately, Peggy responded with anger, bitterness, blame (in her words, "stress" and "depression") and ultimately, the decision to shed her husband like a snake sheds its old, worn-out skin.  Now she feels liberated, as though she is blossoming into her true self.  She's happy and carefree, as she remembers feeling in the early years of her marriage.  But who was stressed-out and depressed?  Peggy.  Who regularly lashed out at her husband and kids?  Peggy.  Who broke up their unhappy home?  Peggy.  Some other person did not take possession of Peggy's body.  She really was, and is, that person.

2.  Circumstances control our lives; we are just victims.  Those "worst years" could have been the best years, had Peggy responded with patience, trust or love to the trials she faced.  Her three daughters could be filled with admiration at what their mother endured and gratitude for an intact, happy home despite their troubles.  My own parents had many ups and downs in their 38-year marriage, but at my mother's funeral, I cried with joy that we had walked the cancer journey together as a whole family.

3.  Things couldn't have been any different.  Things could have been different.  When her husband turned out to be a jerk, as all men are occasionally, Peggy could have remembered why she married him in the first place and patiently waited for things to get better.  She could have restrained her tongue at home as she does at work.  She could have sought counseling with a willingness to change herself instead of a preconceived determination that her husband or the circumstances were at fault.  She could have surrounded herself with people who believed, "Murder, maybe; divorce, never."  She could have recognized her own complicity in the problems and extended grace to her husband and daughters.

This whole post depressed me because Peggy continues to see herself as a victim and therefore doesn't see any need to change her own attitudes.  Does she really believe that now that her husband is out of her home, no trials will ever arise?  Or that she will somehow respond with grace and joy to future difficulties, when she has a completely different pattern firmly entrenched in her psyche?

I am no better than Peggy.  I have the same negative reactions, the same self-righteous bitterness, the same tendency to blame others and lash out at them.  What will my children remember?  I pray they will remember that Jesus Christ forgives and renews me and them.  I pray they will remember that the Holy Spirit "calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies" us.  I pray they will remember my humble moments.  And I pray they will remember that two jerks can live together in peace and love through God's power.

Saint and Sinner

I was overwhelmed with the sense of my own sinfulness yesterday. First, our substitute pastor allowed a good long time for "reflection" during the Confession of Sins, so I had ample time to remember that I hadn't prayed with the praise team before worship began. I want to do that, but more often than not I forget. What does that say about my focus on the Lord? Nothing good!

Next, we sang "Lord, Have Mercy" with its verse lines "Jesus, I've forgotten the words that You have spoken" and "I have built an altar where I worship things of men," which spoke to me more than usual. I bustle about, doing good things for the most part, but am I helping people know You better? Not often. Am I truly sacrificing? Not often.

The scriptures were about the call of God and coming to Jesus, so I decided to sing "Come to Jesus" for the offering. It's a difficult song which I hadn't sung since before losing my voice, so I was praying that God would bring me through it. It's also a very emotional song and I usually cry when rehearsing it. The verse about "Don't be afraid to crawl and remember when we walk, sometimes we fall, so fall on Jesus" hit me hard, and then the next verse was "if your sky is dark and pours the rain, cry to Jesus" and I cried and sang because the Chambers family was there and Dona has just been put on hospice and everything is hard. I was able to sing while crying, and quit by the next verse.

While at the communion rail, I was struck by the necessity for communion - our ongoing sinfulness, our ongoing stubbornness, our ongoing need of a Savior. I am the chief of sinners - I have everything, yet am discontent; I know Jesus, yet forget Him; I believe His kingdom has come, yet live according to this world's rules so very often. Lord, I believe - help my unbelief!

During the last song, I completely messed up - not once, but twice - playing and singing the verse when the chorus was called for, and vice versa. My praise team will forgive me, for which I am so thankful, and the congregation will too. But it's just another example - in this case, not deliberate sin, of course, but it still hurt the worship flow and the comfort level of the congregation - of our continually missing the mark. Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God, through our Lord Jesus Christ!