Honesty

How many lies have you told today? I don’t mean blatant lies, like, “No, mom, I didn’t wreck your car; it was pumelled by elephants that escaped from the zoo.” Granted these sorts of lies are bad, but they are very obviously so, not to mention foolish.

How about more subtle lie? For example, what did you say to your good friend today when she asked how you were? “I’m fine.” “Great.” “Couldn’t be better.” Is that the truth?

Even worse, have you lied to yourself today? No, I’m not angry at my mother for the divorce. Its no big deal. No, I’m not upset after my father died. I can handle it myself. Chances are, these sorts of lies are at the heart of the lie you told your friend. These sorts are likely the cause of many, if not most, of the problems we have.

The essayist and novelist James Baldwin writes:

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, that they will forced to deal with pain.
[Notes of a Native Son]

What is hatred, if not a lie we use to justify ourselves. Hatred is rooted in fear. We are stuck in depression, in bitterness and anger, because we will not be honest with ourselves. We will not admit that we cannot function on our own.

So, I admit, I’m not fine. I have chosen to seek after God, to model my life after the life of Christ, but sometimes—usually it seems unfruitful, worthless, even foolish. I get frustrated when I don’t get immediate results. If I’m going to work for something I want to see the results as I work not sometime later. Sometimes—most of the time, I don’t even feel like waking up in the morning. Nothing seems worth the effort. I don’t want to have to deal with pain. I’d rather sit where I am, plug in a good video game or turn on the television and live through imagined worlds. That is easier and I don’t want difficulty. But at the same time, I have this itching inside that I just want to ignore but its always there. And I know that I have to do something about it, but I’m afraid it might hurt or I might fail. Its like there are two, separate desires in me, pulling in opposite directions. I want to stay right where I am, comfortable and uncaring, and I want to get up, get out and help someone who is hurting. I want to change the world but I don’t think I have what it takes, so why should I bother? Everything inside of me wants to scream. It brings me to tears. I wish I were somewhere else. I wish I were someone else. Or even better, I wish I had never existed in the first place.

This is the battle that I fight every day. I know what is right but I can’t find it in me to do something about it. I try to ignore God. I know I can’t fight alone. I need help. My pride hates it, but I am weak and helpless without supernatural aid. I get angry when I pray and nothing seems to happen. But I know, somewhere inside, that there is a God. And I know that no matter how difficult it is, no matter how much it hurts, it would be worth the risk for even the slightest glimmer of hope. And that’s exactly what I have, a glimmer, a tiny ray that I frequently lose sight of.

This is the truth about how I feel. I have realized that it does me no good to pretend I am not in this fight. That I’m fine. All is not well.

A mechanic can’t fix a car without opening the hood and finding the problem. Ignoring the weird sputtering sound from your car doesn’t make it go away. If you keep driving it anyway your liable to end up stranded on a highway somewhere.

So, what will I do today? I will pray and worship God. And when I have done it I will keep doing it, even when it seems unfruitful. And I will acknowlege my mistakes, my bad attitudes, and I will work against them. I will say to God, “My heart is wrong; come and change it. I am broken; fix me.”

Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD”—and you forgave the guilt of my sin.
[Psalm 32:5 NIV]