Why is it that I’m always the last one who can see it?
It’s that moment when something is broken in my life and I can’t see it. My wife and friends can. My children and my neighbors can. But I can’t. It’s like the very nature of the problem is to blind me to the problem. And to make it worse, the more everyone points it out, the more I seem to protect it, as thought the problem is me. And it’s not. The problem is the problem. But as long as I hold onto it, I can’t tell the difference. And the longer I hold onto it, resisting the gentle and not so gentle reminders of the world around me to “LET IT GO”, the more it gets embedded within me so that I can’t tell the where I stop and the problem starts. I literally become blind to the problem. And in the process I have become my own worst enemy, protecting that which destroys me.
I sometimes wonder if this blindness is what Jesus was talking about when he said:
“though seeing, they may not see; though hearing, they may not understand.”
Jesus was saying that it is possible to see but not see? I get that. Its like being the only one in a crowded room who can’t see the “Stupid” sign on my back. Everyone is laughing but I’m not willing to pull it off.
Much of the journey of following Jesus has led me to the simple practice of getting honest with myself so I can see. If we’re really after the truth, it’s pretty clear to me that the problem is when we hold onto a lie as if its true. And in the process we’re being duped. To be honest, I’ve been duped too long in my life. It just doesn’t work for me anymore.
But the reality is that this requires me to get honest with myself, to literally swallow my pride and begin to really listen to those around me who really have my best interest at heart. It requires me surrounding myself with people who will speak truth into my life while holding my dignity at the same time. It requires me to really get honest with those moments that I’ve picked up the lie…again. I hate that moment. But I’m learning to hate the moment I hold it even more. I want to let it go.
And what is perhaps more profound is the feeling I get when I actually do let go of the lie. My sense of clarity about it is ridiculous, making me wonder how I couldn’t see it before. It was sooooo obvious. And yet I couldn’t see it. I was captivated by it.
What if repentance is really just letting go a lie that destroys us? If this is true, then I want to get a PhD in repentance. I want to see very clearly the moment I’m destroying God’s image in me, the one that sustains me and lets me know I am loved.
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You can find a list of other’s who have contributed to this summer series at Christine Sine’s blog Godspace.
