It has been awhile since I’ve appeared in this space, and while I have my own blog, I feel so much comfort when I write in a space that is inhabited by so many amazing people. Besides, when I’m feeling introspective, I don’t like the feeling of aloneness that a separate blog can sometimes bring. I welcome the community here, and for that, I’m thankful to always be welcome.
I’m in a hard season of life. Gosh, even that appears to be an understatement. The last few months have been spine-bending hard, and while it has been hard to find peace and respite for my troubled mind and heart, God has been working in me. At least I’m claiming it is God. I have this image in my head of a lake being drained. As the water is continually emptied, all of the mess that people have thrown in that lake is being uncovered. For instance, yesterday I had the weirdest thought.
“When did humility become an area of weakness?”
I’ll explain. As a child, I was always told to not be proud. To always remain humble. Something within me latched on to that “proud” part and ran with it. To this day, I have a hard time being proud of anything that I do well. In my psyche, being humble has become equated with being invisible, unseen, unrecognized…to such a point that as a 40 year old man, I struggle accepting compliments and have an even harder time congratulating myself for anything that I might do well. Failing to see the good in me, or the redeeming qualities that I possess. An overwhelming feeling of unworthiness that pushes my decision-making and subsequent actions to try and be a balancing weight in everyday. How in the world have I gotten here? I didn’t even congratulate myself for publishing a book! I give myself no credit for having had a podcast. What I do see are my faults. I see my sin. I see the reflection in the mirror of a man who is in some ways still a boy wearing clothing that feels too big.
When did humility become my Kryptonite?
Somewhere deep inside I know that I’m something special, yet that voice gets lost in the incessant cacophonic symphony of derision that plays on a loop inside of my head. It is so weird. If the album of ME is being played everyday, somewhere along the line it got scratched and will only play a few pieces of an entire track. I hate it.
I suppose just sitting here and writing all of this down is a win. I have purposefully avoided writing anything down for months now. I couldn’t make myself do it. I’m not sure what changed this morning, but I do know that as with anything else that I write. this is not just about me, because I’m not special in the sense that I’m the only one who deals with this.
You know, my book was titled “Slaying the Lion”. I’m beginning to think that there is another lion that needs to be slayed. The one that distorts me.
So if that’s you. I understand you. I’m here with you. We’ll walk through it together.