Tag Archives: Confession

May 1st, 2007

Posts, , , ,

This entry must serve as a summary-marker for one-side of a very deep valley I was about to cross. My journal from this “season within a season” contains many words, the airing of which will edify no one (including even myself). But this entry marks the left- hand side of that valley walk, the LEFT, where my brain becomes fully engaged in what is required to move forward. I must move from left to right, the place where heart and soul become engaged. This entry marks the awakening of the Pilgrim mind. That awakening sets the Pilgrim feet on the path to the Pilgrim heart.

The left side of the valley could be defined by the awareness of what complete death-to-self really looks like. I wrote this entry in an attempt to defend my repeated efforts to get Brenda to do certain things. The “push-back” I was receiving was along the lines of:

“Your being a legalist. You’re demanding things that are not your business to demand. You’re trying to control and manipulate.” I was saying, “No…the things I’m asking for are representative of the HEART I need to see in my wife.”

I was quite convinced of my “rightness”. In fact, as of today (October of 2010) I am still convinced that  I was right. But looking back now from the other side of the valley, being right is not the same as embracing truth. And the truth can be terrifying.

Brenda, imagine this:

On your way to see me each time,  you visit with “Grandma”, and receive love and affection and new life and inspiration. Grandma loves you! The flowers you bring me are beautiful certainly…and I enjoy them…and they speak to me of your love and affection. But I also love to see how ALIVE you are after spending time in the garden with Grandma. I always encourage you to visit her because it brings so much life into you and I want you to have abundant life! The flowers are simply a symbol of ALL that. The flowers represent ALL of what I just wrote. No sermons. No speeches.

Now, how would I feel if you arrived one day after a LONG gap in flower deliveries, and you’re carrying some flowers for me…only you share that you had not been to visit Grandma at all. These are not flowers from her garden. You share that in fact, you were walking through a dark and dangerous alley that doesn’t go anywhere near Grandma’s house, and that’s why I hadn’t been seeing as many flowers lately; you weren’t in the place to receive them. You go onto to explain that just today in this alley you were stopped by a big thug and store-bought flowers were thrust into your hand, and he said, “Dan told me he likes flowers….now give these to him or I’ll beat you! Oh…and I’ll be checking with him to make sure you did!”

I would perfectly understand WHY you brought me flowers. I would be in hearty disagreement with the thug who threatened you and angry at his behavior. But the flowers would not have the effect of expressing any love or tenderness to me…in fact the irony is that I finally received this expression I was so longing for, but due to the coercion behind it, I felt mostly bitterness and resentment too. Apart from my own feelings of neglect, I also worry about your well being in that you have been choosing this dark alley as a route and not the route past Grandma’s house where you receive life and love.

What are my options now Brenda? Insist that you never go through that alley again? Barricade the dark alley? Hire a P.I. to make sure?

THE FOLLOWING IS THE VOICE OF GOD SPOKEN DIRECTLY TO ME. HE MADE ME TYPE THIS OUT. HE GENTLY BUT FIRMLY STUCK MY FACE RIGHT IN IT:

If I really love you, I guess I’ll have to walk with you through whatever dark alley you choose…and I’ll defend you against any thug who attacks….even when it’s by your own choice that you expose yourself to danger. Because that’s what was done for me on the cross.

April 26th, 2007

Posts, , ,

I imagined opening the sliding glass door and sitting on the rain soaked deck…letting the wind and rain chill me. Mourning. Crying out. Asking the universe to pity me. Pity. My favorite flavor of approval. Yes, approval comes in many flavors. Applause, encouragement, lust, envy, and even pity gives validation…it says to the mourner, “I approve of your pain. You are JUSTIFIED!” Sadly, the work which is meant to be done by God alone, and yet we turn to others to approve us, to justify us.

So I realized that pity is a form of approval and that I have set up pity as part of a pantheon of idols!

I have asked you, God to tear down my idols; to help to do it anyway…to show me where they are…what they are. Oh, how large and shiny PITY must be. I heard the voice of the enemy again today…he draws me back in my own memory to the 7th grade…back to being 5 when I first tasted the sweet, hollow pleasure of pity.

I worship it.

I bow before it.

I long for it.

It owns me.

I have let it secretly own me.

Now that I’m older and have been in a mostly healthy, long-term relationship…now that I have tasted of the sweetness of real love…pity is simply an addiction. When I fear I can’t get the REAL thing….my heart immediately returns to the old stand-by.

Brenda is distant. She is in her own place that really has little to do with me. That’s sad. I’m sad about that. I miss her. I want her back. But what I CAN NOT DO is try to substitute some kind of pity for what she is unable to give me.

Maybe she’ll never figure it out. She may never be able to express her love. She SEES me…but it is never followed up with letting me see HER…which would be a very loving and intimate thing to do.

I don’t know exactly how to deal with that prospect…but today at least I understand that pity is not a substitute, and God, you are graciously burning it away. It hurts like hell. But I will try to be very quiet…I will not cry out. I will not cry out for pity.

I went to two of my friends yesterday and told them what was going on in my head and my heart regarding these “other women”…I have asked for remedial accountability from both of them.