So Jesus was saying to those Jews who had believed Him, “If you
continue in My word, then you
are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth, and the
truth will make you free.” (John 8:31-32)
Life
is being a pain in the neck. I fully recognize that there are people for whom
life is far worse than a pain in the neck, but that doesn’t make it any less a
pain in the neck. As usual, the slightest pain reduces the universe down to the
size of that pain. It doesn’t matter what good things have happened. All that
matters is the thing that causes the pain.
And
since I don’t want to mock or belittle anyone else’s pain, I can only discuss
my own, which deserves to be mocked and belittled. The first whisperings were “I’m
all alone.” Other people have spouses. Do I want a husband? Not really, but it
would really be nice to not have to handle all the chores myself, or to have
someone who will listen, understand, and speak the truth I need to hear
(instead of the truth they want to shove down my throat.)
And God says, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” He promised a Comforter.
And God says, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” He promised a Comforter.
My
mind dismisses this with a wave of a mental hand. “It’s not the same.”
The
truth is, it’s better, but I still feel all alone.
The
second whispering is a well-loved enemy. “Not good enough,” or “Failure.” I saw
a meme that describes a parallel situation well. He said that you can get it
right racially 99 times. But if you slip once and say something that doesn’t
meet with the approval of groups like Black Lives Matters, you are condemned
eternally as a racist.
It
doesn’t matter how many fronts I make progress. I made a batch of peach-orange
jam yesterday. Today I plan to make peach-blueberry jam, and I get to try the
cherry galette I made for dinner. I just got done pulling weeds out of my garden
(a never-ending chore.) I’m taking steps to publish my second novel. I’m close
to finishing two books and slogging my way through Mein Kampf besides. I’m
learning about foraging. I’m doing all kinds of stuff that if I were someone
else looking at me, I might find impressive. But… the house isn’t spotless, I’m
struggling to write a blurb (novels are “easy” but blurbs are hard.) I’m
spending too much money. I’m fat. And there’s truth to a lot of those. I am a
failure.
But
God says, “My grace is sufficient for you.”
My
mind dismisses this with a wave of a mental hand. “It’s not the same.”
The
truth is, it’s better, but I still feel like a failure. The truth is also that
I am a failure. I can’t possibly accomplish all I would like to or all I
should. The only way I could do that is by being God. Since I’m not God, it’s
OK to fail. But that’s not what my feelings tell me.
And
this brings us back to our passage. Knowing the truth sets us free. It doesn’t
give us what we want but it frees us. And that’s why we don’t like the truth.
We don’t want to be free if freedom means telling our feelings that they’re
lying, or mistaken, or out of line. Unfortunately, that’s the only way to be
free: to demand that those things that lie to us stop and to hold on to what we
know to be true even if our feelings say otherwise.
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