I have been living a lie

This was written a week before a friend, and NOBTS faculty member, took his own life. While I may never know why he reached the point of such hopelessness, it made me consider how many times I have also chosen to abide in hopelessness. My prayer is that we, the Church, begin to strengthen our resolve to create such an environment that no one feels they are beyond the hope, mercy, and forgiveness of Jesus the Messiah.

I have been living a lie.

You heard correctly. I have been living a lie for several years now. This lie has been so pervasive that I have been tricked into believing the Matrix is real and it is good. At some point I fell down the rabbit hole and got lost in Wonderland, all the while thinking it was real.

Well, it’s not. Recently, reality slammed me square in the face and my whole sense of “reality” was shattered. Believe it or not, this is a good thing. A very good thing.

The lie is not one-dimensional, either. Oh no, it’s multi-faceted. But when you peel back the ogre-as-an-onion-like layers, you find one root lie at the very core:

“I am not good enough.”

That’s right. That’s the lie I have been living for quite some time. Stick with me here as I share a part of my most recent inner dialog:

“Why in the world did you think that was going to work? Did you really think they were going to like you? Did you really think that was your best work? It’s time to wake up. You will never be enough. You will never be good enough. You can never do it right. Square peg, round hole, my friend. You will never fit in on this campus. Why would they use you? You have nothing of value to offer. Why would those women want to be your friend? You have nothing to offer them. You will never be taken seriously in youth ministry because you are a woman. You are not needed. Your friendship is not needed. Your talents/gifts are not needed. Your time and Andy’s money are being wasted on your so-called education, because no one is going to want what you have to offer. No matter how hard you try, you are going to be a failure.”

The first problem is that the core lie is a relative concept. What is ‘good enough’? Who is the judge? What is the rubric? To whom am I being compared? What must I do to achieve the elusive concept? Is there a sliding scale? Can I reach a certain point/line that puts me within an acceptable limit? How can God ever use me if I'm not good enough? 

Here is the simple truth that refutes the heart of the core lie: "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God...the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ...[he] is the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through [him]...[who] came so they [we] may have life and have it to the full." (Rom. 3:23, 6:23; John 14:6, 10:10b) At no point in my life will I ever be "good enough" because it's not possible for man. Jesus lived the perfect life, became the perfect sacrifice, and rose because HE was MORE THAN "good enough". He fulfilled all of the requirement for the sins of man. My choice to believe in him has satisfied God's wrath towards me and therein secures my eternal status. Nothing more need be done in order for me to be good enough. However....

 

The second problem with this lie is its insidious nature. It is seductive. It is subtle. It sneaks in the back door of your mind and worms its way into your heart and soul. The false sense of being "good enough" leads you to focus on temporal things that have little to no meaning! It leads you to believe that man's opinion is greater than your status in Christ.  I fell victim to this lie at some point along the way and was defenseless against its assault. I’m ashamed to say that I have believed every part of its rhetoric. The inner monologue nabbed me hook, line, and sinker, altering my social life, my emotional stability, my confidence, and it has held me back from pursuing my dreams. I have lived out these lies for a long time and have been lulled into a mire of insecurity and complacency.

The ME that I remember charged after what she wanted, consulted people she trusted without fear of judgment, dreamed big dreams, tried new things, moved wherever God was leading her without fear, and so much more. This woman I see in the mirror is a mere shadow of that woman. She is timid and lazy, second guesses herself, crumbles under the slightest pressure, and consistently judges herself harshly if the slightest thing goes awry.

This is no way to live. This is not a life. This is a mere shadow of existence. It is not the life to which I’ve been called. It is a LIE. 

John 10 relates Jesus’ parable of the shepherd and his flock. The sheep followed the shepherd’s voice because they knew him. Jesus said that the sheep would never follow a stranger because they did not know his voice; in fact, they would run away from the stranger. The thief, or the stranger, “comes only to steal, kill, and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10) The beauty of this passage lies in the voices. In order for sheep to know their shepherd's voice that well, they must have known him from a very early age; they must have followed him closely for a long time. Even a slight change in timbre from a fake would cause them alarm and they would run away. What comes to mind is our relationship with the Great Shepherd. Do we know his voice so well that any other voice attempting to approach us is immediately ignored? Are we so attuned to his leadership that anything other than the genuine article simply will not suffice? Do we recognize his voice speaking life, hope, and security in him alone into our hearts?

The “voices” speaking hyperbole, vitriol, hate, despair, insecurity, and lies are not the voice of my Shepherd. In fact, such speech goes against his very nature; that of love, security, fullness, joy, etc. Jesus said it himself, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” The eternal life he brings is an abundant life. This is not a prosperity gospel heresy telling me I am to have my best life now. No, it is the gospel of a secure hope of spending eternity with the God who loves me personally and intimately. He died for me in order to make this possible; he loved me that much. Would a loving God then spew those lies so insidiously through my mind and my heart? No.

You know who would? The Father of Lies. The one who seeks to “steal, kill, and destroy” all of mankind. And for a while now, I have bought into his game. I plugged back into the Matrix. I hung out with the Caterpillar in Wonderland, allowing the vapors to lull me into a fall sense of complacency. 

The result has been a listless wandering, aching restlessness, and miserable wallowing. My soul slowly hardened to the calling God placed on my life almost 20 years ago. It became rigid in its trajectory, forgetting along the way that God’s journey for me has never been a straight path. In every direction God sent me, his obstacles challenged me, changed me, broke me, and molded me into something that looks slightly more like him. Why would this part of my journey be any different?

Having had the scales pulled back from my eyes, I’m revisiting the simple theology written on my cardboard testimony 4.5 years ago: From “Running like Jonah,” to “Running like Paul.”