Some people have told me that I am too transparent in my blogs. But, in my opinion, a lack of transparency is the same as hypocrisy. I am a human with far too many weaknesses to conceal, so why would I try?
So, prepare yourself for some transparency.
Far too often I do not like myself. I could give you a long list of reasons why that is true, but at the core of all of them are some words spoken to me when I was around ten years old. My dad, in a moment of anger and frustration, uttered six words that have impacted me far more than any ever spoken…
“You will never amount to anything.”
My dad was not a bad man. I know that he loved me. I know that, in light of the disfunction of his childhood, he was a remarkable father. I have forgiven him for those words and many others that cut me deeply. But that does not mean that I have escaped their impact. I can still hear them spoken and see the expression on his face and his pointing finger. And, all too often, I believe him.
As I came to Christ in my teen years, the voice lessened. And, as I have grown in my relationship with Jesus, there are times when it is nothing more than a very distant whisper that gets drowned out by my heavenly Father’s voice. But there are other times that it shouts loudly.
I have spent much of my life trying to find approval, believing that the voice would be silenced forever if I could make people proud of me. Even worse, I have wasted much too much of my relationship with Jesus trying to earn His approval and make Him proud. My dad died in August of 1996, and I knew that I would never hear the healing words I had prayed for, so the voice got much louder for a while. But then it got quieter again.
Now, fast forward to 2017. Most days the voice is quiet and I am at peace with who I am. I know God’s love and the love of my wife and children. I am walking in God’s calling, and I can feel His smile. Most days.
But occasionally, that is not true. Occasionally I feel the pointing finger and hear those words again. And they are devastating. This mainly happens with things go wrong in the ministry. Like last week…
We have been facing a growing crisis within the ministry, but I have been brushing it off. But last week I was confronted with the magnitude of it, up close and personal. And, for the first time in a long time… my faith shrunk, my fear swelled, my self-loathing surged, and that old voice shouted.
“See! You are a failure! Everything you do will eventually fail! You will never amount to anything!”
I could see the expression. I could see the pointing finger. And I could hear the words as clearly as ever. Only this time, it was not my dad saying them in my mind…it was God.
I know, I know. God was not really saying them. It was the enemy using this very hard moment and my very great weakness to attack. But it was devastating and left me in a useless daze. I prayed. I cried out to God. But I felt unheard and alone.
On Wednesday morning I packed up the truck and headed up to Canillá, Quiché for two days of ministry with Jeremiah, Kevin and Katie. I believed it would do me good to get away and minister, as that always puts things in perspective. The trip up was uneventful, and we had a good afternoon as we served. But I will confess that I wasn’t all there. My mind was immeshed in the battle with the voice, and I was very mechanical in the ministry I did.
Then that night I had a horrible night. I slept poorly, and in the midst of it, I had a dream. A really bad dream. Often when I face The Voice, these kinds of dreams come. They are of the emasculating variety that cause me to awaken in a cloud of inferiority. And this one did exactly that.
The other ministry with which we work in Canillá, Las Maripositas, has group devotionals each morning, and I normally take part when I am there. But this morning I knew I needed to do something different. So I retreated to my pick-up with tinted windows to pour out my heart to God. And pour out my heart is exactly what I did. Out loud and with many tears, I begged Him to come and heal my heart. I knew that, without His touch, I would not be able to minister at all. But He answered, and we ministered.
That morning we had two divine appointments in which God moved…
Ana’s family had brought her a long distance from a remote village in hopes of getting her a wheelchair. She has severed arthritis and cannot walk or straighten her legs. She is in constant pain, and even cried out when I lifted her from the pick-up in which she arrived. My heart broke when the full magnitude of her suffering came to light.
But it was beautiful when I placed her in the chair and made a few adjustments. When I was done, I knelt down and asked her how it felt. And, for the first time, I saw her smile. She was so relaxed and comfortable, and her whole body showed it. She told me that if felt “So very good!” And I gave thanks to God who saw her need when I was in our bodega, loading the “wrong” chair.
As soon as they had left, we loaded up the truck and headed out to another remote community. The roads were rough and steep, and I discovered along the way that my 4-wheel drive low has stopped working. But with 4-wheel drive high and some momentum, we were able to get through.
We were visiting a lady named Isidria, whom I had measured for a wheelchair on my last visit. She had suffered a stroke years before, and we found her in a horrible wheelchair. Her husband had found an old folding wheelchair and placed her in it. But, because her head and body tilted to the left, her spouse had tied a blanket around the right handle and placed it around her head to keep her upright. She has spent each day in that chair in that position for years.
We brought a custom chair for her with head rest and tilt, and we were able to quickly adjust it and get her seated comfortably. The headrest was a difficult adjustment, because her head and neck were so twisted. I made the adjustment, put her on a tilt, and watched over the next few minutes as her neck relaxed and moved into a more normal position. So, I moved it further over and back, and watched it happen again. So, still another adjustment. On my next visit, I will move her headrest back and over further. I hope that she will eventually relax to the point of normal posture.
Isdria cannot speak at all. But I leaned down close to her and asked her how her chair felt. And, for the first time ever, I saw her smile. And a single tear flowed down her right cheek.
It had been a rough week in which I felt pounded, both emotionally and spiritually. It had been a horrible night, with little sleep and a troubling dream. And it had been a long drive over rough roads to get to her. But, at that moment, I knew that I would do it over and over again to see a smile like that.
So, as we drove home that evening, my spirit was brighter and I felt better equipped to face the challenge that awaited me. And I was praising God for those experiences to quiet the voices.
But then He spoke and asked me some questions:
“What if I had not blessed and guided your morning? What if the wheelchairs were not what they needed? What if the morning had been filled with frustration and disappointment? What then? Why do you allow what you do to influence your identity so much, while who I am and what I say influences you so little?”
Ouch! Good questions. And convicting questions.
Why do I allow hard times and failures to tell me who I am instead of allowing Jesus to tell me? Why am I so influenced by what I can and cannot do instead of Whose I am? Why can’t I love myself simply because God does? There are some days that I do. But there are far too many that I don’t.
When will I learn that I don’t have to make God love me, because He already does? All I have to do is to learn how to fully love Him back. When will I learn to trust His words more than my earthly fathers’s. I want to, but I have so far to go.
But I have learned something important. I am not alone. In fact, there are far more people in the church who struggle with this issue than those who don’t. Likely, you are a member of this broken community. The words might be different than the words I hear, but they are just as damaging, painful and destructive. Some days they are quiet and distant, others they blare loudly in your mind. And, while your mind tells you that your are loved and valued by God, those words echo in your heart.
I just want you to know that you are not alone.
I have no pat answers to offer here. But if you have a magic cure, let me know. All I can do is to invite you to join me in learning to believe the truth of God instead of those heart-breaking and life-breaking words you have heard from others:
“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us.” 1 John 4:16-19
For this moment, I choose to rest in that love. I pray you will as well.
Blessings from Guatemala!
Daryl, Wanda and the Crew
