This Barren Land: Trapped

 Part Two:

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A few weeks ago our pastor completed his sermon series called "Love One Another" with a message on forgiveness. Now, honestly, I sat back and got my notebook ready with a haughty attitude. I thought Oh, forgiveness? I've heard this one before. I poised my pen, ready to somewhat regurgitate the verses and insights I have heard many times before. And God…oh, God? He was looking down on me…laughing. "You silly girl. You have so much to learn." And of course he was right. And of course I was slapped in the face by this seemingly gentle message. Of course. Isn't it always the ones that you assume you've heard before? And maybe it is that I had heard it before, but it took this one last time for it to really sink into my stubborn head.  On this quiet, perfect autumn Sunday morning I came face to face with my ugly self.

I'll let you in on a little secret, my first confession.

I am a grudge-holder. I hold tight to grudges. I revel in grudge-holding. I will bring up the ways that I have been wronged whenever it is convenient -- when I whine and complain, lack confidence or feel lazy -- soak up my self-pity and walk away with my nose pointed high. This is a little, terrible huge bad habit I have developed into perfection over the last 20 years.

My mom is surprised at my good memory and I think she might be jealous at times when I recall stories that she had once forgotten. We'll sit, the whole family, around the kitchen table and laugh until we cry over the many misadventures of my sister, my brother, and I. We are a picture-taking family, albums and boxed overflowing, but we really don't need them.

I, on the other hand, find my memory as much a curse as a blessing. Because a good memory only feeds the Ugly Grudge Monster inside until it is too fat to move out. I can play endless reels of mental video recounting jokes, games, laughter, serious moments and heartfelt conversations. But most often the most vivid, crystal clear frames are of moments of hurt which burned into my mind and planted seeds of resentment, anger, and bitterness.

And when I am at my weakest I play those reels over and over and over again. When I have been wronged, again, I will scream at those images, "How dare you!!" And I will vow to never let anyone in again, lest they hurt me like all the others. The thickness of my walls in multiplied with every reel, every frame. And when I feel down and defeated, uncomfortable in my own skin, I sit in the corner and play the same movies over and over. I sob into my knees, "They were right. They were so right. I'm nothing. How could I be so stupid to think anything else?" I believe those lies all over again. I reinforce my walls with an extra layer of concrete. Determined to make it impenetrable, at the same time feeling I would deserve another hurtful comment flung over the wall. It would just make sense. 

I squeeze tight to these grudges, my hands are dripping with my own blood. And this is how I stick it to everyone who has hurt me? I'm only creating more wounds.

Sadly I remember how my best childhood friend hurt me. I remember what names my sister called me when we fought. I remember how my mom and dad hurt my feeling when I was 10. I remember how my teacher embarrassed me in the 8th grade. I remember a crush humiliating me in high school. As I began to traverse the barren land of Infertility, many many more reels have been added to my growing collection, hoarded away in the back of my mind (or very often in the front) for the days in which I need them least. 

And as any hoarder will tell you, we can't fathom letting it go. Even though all these hoarded things are killing us, making us sick and breaking us down, and the world is falling apart around us, we cling and clutch and build the walls higher and thicker around our hoard. A means of protection. A means of keeping safe. And this is how I stick it to everyone who has hurt me? I'm only making myself sick. Feeding the Ugly Grudge Monster, fat and huge, until there isn't enough air for me in my little fortress, I'm crushed and suffocate.

I sat in that sanctuary and heard the words "Be patient with one another, and make allowances for each other's faults because of [our] love" (Eph. 4:2). And my little comfy, fortress world started to fall apart. We are to make allowances for others faults? I don't want to make allowances, I want to smack them in the face!! Now the pastor really had my attention, because I must have heard him wrong.

Later in the same chapter Paul tells his readers to forgive each other. This simple commandment assumes the fact that we will offend one another. People will offend me. People will hurt me. People will hurt me and I need to forgive. I had heard this before, but that morning, it was different. Has that ever happened to you? You hear the same thing over and over again, but suddenly, without warning, the same words are shaking your world.  As I was sitting in church that morning, the knocking started. Just a little knock, a polite tap on the outside of my wall. It didn't make sense. This wall, these grudges, these reels of footage were supposed to protect me. I mean, they were supposed to help me learn from my mistakes and keep me from getting hurt again. This does not make sense. God would want me to learn, right? He would want me to be strong and this is me being strong…right?

Paul starts this chapter off with "As a prisoner of the Lord,"  which is obviously a guilt trip. I mean, come on. Paul's all like, "If I, a prisoner, who has been persecuted and beaten and starved and chained up, can do this…then YOU, can do this. So get. it. together." And at first I'm indignant. I think nothing is wrong with me. It's only natural to miss what is right in front of you, all around you, too close to really see. But then I begin to wonder…if he, who was physically hurt and starved and publicly ridiculed and beaten and called a fraud could find a way to forgive…maybe I can. Maybe this wall and this Ugly Grudge Monster and these reels aren't everything this life has to offer? I'm scared. What will happen to me without this safe place? What is Out There?

I read the whole of Ephesians 4 and came to the end, the final verses. "Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger…forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." All bitterness…all anger…forgive…

Forgive.

I started to look around me and noticed the junk, the garbage, the mess. I started to look within my walls, my little fortress, and I felt alone, cold, and it suddenly it wasn't as comforting as it had been. I start to see that all this warm, comfy padding of this little boarded up space is just bitterness and resentment and I am swimming in it. Swimming. Like on the hottest summer day. The little pool is perfect and refreshing and cool, until the sun beats down on it. Before you know it, almost without you even noticing, this cool, refreshing pool is lukewarm, even hot. The opposite of refreshing. It's disgusting and you can't get out fast enough.

Forgive.

I flip back to the beginning of Ephesians 4, read further, and catch my breath a few lines down: "so that the body of Christ may be built up…" Built up. Right there, hidden away, was the key to what I had been missing. I had been so busy keeping track of my hurt, watching each offense frame by frame over and over again, and building my walls instead of doing what I was called to do. Here, Paul is talking about the gifts and roles, the different areas of ministry and the kingdom that we are uniquely called to, gifted for, made for. I was building with the wrong bricks in the wrong place for the wrong purpose. Not only was my Ugly Grudge Monster killing me, it was getting in the way of what God had created me to do. It was stopping me from serving, helping, comforting others in ways and places I didn't even know about yet. I was wasting my time. I was wasting my purpose. There just must be something better Out There. God made me for something different, which has to be better. Out There.

I stare at my Ugly Grudge Monster, up and down. It really is ugly. It really is sucking all the air out of here and I want out. I want rid of it.

Forgive.

Then the kicker. The One. The verse that nearly made me jump out of my seat. Matthew 6:14-15: "For if you forgive those who sin against you, God will forgive you. But if you do not forgive those who sin against you, your Father in heaven will not forgive you." And it was in that moment, when those quiet words floated their way across the room, into my ears, surrounding me and sinking into the corners of my consciousness, that I realized that it was not only my Ugly Grudge Monster that I was housing within my walls, but my own nasty Sack of Sin. No wonder I was feeling so sick and weak and defeated and miserable. If I wasn't letting these grudges go, spending all my time replaying these reels and movies, if I wasn't so busy building my walls higher and higher, if I couldn’t even see the sun beyond these bricks, I wasn't letting my own offenses go either. You can't expect to build sky-high, thick, secure, sealed, impenetrable walls without being trapped with your own filth.

One hand squeezed tightly to my grudges while the other, without my knowing, had a death grip on my own sin, guilt and shame. I was so unforgiving of others, so critical. I was harboring my hurt, holding to my grudges, replaying the films…But it wasn't just them, the ones who hurt me, the ones outside of these stone walls. It was me too. You can't expect to watch thousands of home movies without seeing yourself once in a while.

And I was seeing myself…a lot. I was playing my own reels, my own offenses, all the ways I've hurt others as they've hurt me. Hidden in the frames of my grudge reels were frames of me, frames I desperately wanted to throw out, to burn. But I held onto them. Keep them anyway, not wanting to burn the moments I reveled in , the moments I clung to, the moments that fed my Ugly Grudge Monster. And this is how I stick it to everyone who has hurt me? By clinging to my moments, my faults, my brokenness, my shame, my guilt, and my wrongdoings? I'm only keeping myself further from freedom…and grace.

And I wanted out. I wanted to claw my way out of the walls, climb on over and be free of this ugly place.

I had to forgive. I had to do the only thing I could do to be rid of this place, be rid of this Ugly Grudge Monster threatening to crush me, sucking all the air out of the place. And this sin, this awful sin…face to face with my own ugliness that I didn't even know I was hoarding. How did this happen? How did I let it get this bad? How did I not notice?

I had to forgive. I had to be free of these walls. Walls I created to protect myself, walls that were meant to comfort and make safe, walls that were so high…how did I let this happen? How did it get this bad? How did I not see it? How would I ever be free? I had to forgive. I had to be free of these grudges. I had clung to them, hugged on to them, found comfort with them and now…now they were just hurting me. How did I not know that? The thing that I meant to use for my good, was now only hurting me, worse than I knew.

Forgive.

But now surrounded by my hand built walls, brick by brick, slathered with concrete, and set solid, I was alone. I was trapped and alone.

Forgive? But how?

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Part Three:

My Ugly Self

Now posted...Read on!