Hi again, friends. At least, I'm pretty sure you're all friends. Most, if not all, of the people who read my blog happen to be friends with me on Facebook. So, I guess "friends" is a good greeting.
This was another week of ups and downs for me. I was thinking about today and I've realized that, so far at least, my college years have been themed with issues I struggle with. Last year, I felt like I struggled a lot with Anger. They seemed to follow me and drove me insane while I battled them. No, I haven't completely won. I'm the son of a redhead, and have a temper to match. However, I do my best to conceal it under the guise of a good Christian college student. And I'm good at that. But I digress. The problem that I seem to be facing this year, along with Jealousy, a crossover demon from last year, is Shame. And not just being ashamed of having embarrassing moments of stupidity, or of smelling like a pig when it gets too hot out. I mean true, blue Shame.
I won't go into minute details, partially to protect the innocent and guilty involved (me), and also to avoid gossipers and other people I know who read this blog finding out stuff I'd honestly rather they not know. But I confronted Shame this week. Or rather Shame came and tried to have his way with me.
I was forced, or maybe compelled by the Holy Spirit, to confess to a friend that I had sinned against them. So, I wrote them an email, since I knew I needed to confess and I had no idea if I'd see this person anytime soon. Later that day, they sought me ought. We talked about rather inconsequential things. I could tell they hadn't read the email. But during our conversation, I found myself unable to look into their eyes. I was so ashamed of myself I couldn't bear to look into their face because I knew I had wronged them. I wanted them to leave because I couldn't stand to be in their presence. I felt I didn't deserve to be there.
No, I didn't break down and tell them the truth that I had wronged them. I just asked them to read their email when they left. Yes, I'm a coward. but I'm also a writer. And Everything I said was already perfectly said in that email.
So I ended up sitting in my room waiting for their reply. Shame overwhelmed me. I wanted to crawl inside a very small hole and die. (They were a very good friend.) Let me tell you; Shame, just like anger, can be a tough task-master. I felt hopeless, unworthy to be forgiven.
And I know this all seems extremely mellow-dramatic, but if there's one thing you readers must understand about me is that I value my friends extremely highly. I become fiercely protective of them, and if anyone dares trespass against them, I get very, very angry. Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes I just a) scare my friends, or b) end up embarrassed I couldn't keep a better control of my own emotions, since I apparently blew up over something rather small and inconsequential. Often they both happen. But that's beside the point. So, now you know how angry I get over other people harming my friends, imagine how terrible I felt that the culprit who had sinned against my friend was none other than myself.
My friend was more than willing to forgive me, and I, for once, accepted it without argument. (I'm really good at arguing against myself and trying to prove how unforgivable I am. At least, I try to be good. So far, I haven't succeeded in persuading someone not to forgive me. Ironic, huh?)
But shame wasn't (and isn't) through with me. I still struggle with it. Those of you who have read many of my blogs might have discovered that a good, Christian boy I am not.While I have never done drugs, smoked or had sex outside of marriage, I have smaller, hidden sins. Sins no one would know or even think about if they were to look at me. Or spend a little time with me, mostly because I don't open up to individuals easily. Funny enough, it's easier for me to confess my problems to a computer screen or audience than it is to talk with someone one-on-one about how I'm doing.
But those aforementioned sins have left their marks, some of them physical. And the shame still lasts. Still, still lasts. But there's something different about this year. it's almost like God is specifically trying to tell me to forget the shame. Easier said than done, let me assure you. But throughout the last two months Romans 8 keeps showing up. First, I have a small Bible study with friends at the beginning of the school year. The passage: Romans 8. We didn't finish it though. Then, during "Spiritual Renewal Week," the speaker decides to unpack Romans chapter 8. Now, after Parent's Weekend, when I decided I would try to help a friend by starting the bidding on some artwork of theirs, I own a piece of photography titled "Romans 8:1." (I lost the gamble that other people would bid on it.)
However, here's a bit of a conundrum. I know that Romans 8:1 says that there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus, but when I sit here, steeping in shame over the past and how my past has affected me, the words ring hollow. I struggle to know them as true for me, not just as true for the average Christian.
I want to know the truth that, not only am I forgiven, but that I don't have to be ashamed of what I've done. I don't have to be burdened because I sinned. And I'll admit the main problem is that while I know this intellectually, while I know this is true in my head, my heart, the seat of my emotions and thoughts, my soul does not recognize the truth. I pray God heals my heart and shows it the light. For now, I struggle to keep it out of the darkness Shame hides behind.
One day I will be free of Shame. One day, I know I will know the truth and I won't question it. I hope that that day comes very soon. Shame is a heavy burden to bear.
But holy is the Lord, who holds my heart, and my destiny in His hands. And even in my shame I will praise His name.
This was another week of ups and downs for me. I was thinking about today and I've realized that, so far at least, my college years have been themed with issues I struggle with. Last year, I felt like I struggled a lot with Anger. They seemed to follow me and drove me insane while I battled them. No, I haven't completely won. I'm the son of a redhead, and have a temper to match. However, I do my best to conceal it under the guise of a good Christian college student. And I'm good at that. But I digress. The problem that I seem to be facing this year, along with Jealousy, a crossover demon from last year, is Shame. And not just being ashamed of having embarrassing moments of stupidity, or of smelling like a pig when it gets too hot out. I mean true, blue Shame.
I won't go into minute details, partially to protect the innocent and guilty involved (me), and also to avoid gossipers and other people I know who read this blog finding out stuff I'd honestly rather they not know. But I confronted Shame this week. Or rather Shame came and tried to have his way with me.
I was forced, or maybe compelled by the Holy Spirit, to confess to a friend that I had sinned against them. So, I wrote them an email, since I knew I needed to confess and I had no idea if I'd see this person anytime soon. Later that day, they sought me ought. We talked about rather inconsequential things. I could tell they hadn't read the email. But during our conversation, I found myself unable to look into their eyes. I was so ashamed of myself I couldn't bear to look into their face because I knew I had wronged them. I wanted them to leave because I couldn't stand to be in their presence. I felt I didn't deserve to be there.
No, I didn't break down and tell them the truth that I had wronged them. I just asked them to read their email when they left. Yes, I'm a coward. but I'm also a writer. And Everything I said was already perfectly said in that email.
So I ended up sitting in my room waiting for their reply. Shame overwhelmed me. I wanted to crawl inside a very small hole and die. (They were a very good friend.) Let me tell you; Shame, just like anger, can be a tough task-master. I felt hopeless, unworthy to be forgiven.
And I know this all seems extremely mellow-dramatic, but if there's one thing you readers must understand about me is that I value my friends extremely highly. I become fiercely protective of them, and if anyone dares trespass against them, I get very, very angry. Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes I just a) scare my friends, or b) end up embarrassed I couldn't keep a better control of my own emotions, since I apparently blew up over something rather small and inconsequential. Often they both happen. But that's beside the point. So, now you know how angry I get over other people harming my friends, imagine how terrible I felt that the culprit who had sinned against my friend was none other than myself.
My friend was more than willing to forgive me, and I, for once, accepted it without argument. (I'm really good at arguing against myself and trying to prove how unforgivable I am. At least, I try to be good. So far, I haven't succeeded in persuading someone not to forgive me. Ironic, huh?)
But shame wasn't (and isn't) through with me. I still struggle with it. Those of you who have read many of my blogs might have discovered that a good, Christian boy I am not.While I have never done drugs, smoked or had sex outside of marriage, I have smaller, hidden sins. Sins no one would know or even think about if they were to look at me. Or spend a little time with me, mostly because I don't open up to individuals easily. Funny enough, it's easier for me to confess my problems to a computer screen or audience than it is to talk with someone one-on-one about how I'm doing.
But those aforementioned sins have left their marks, some of them physical. And the shame still lasts. Still, still lasts. But there's something different about this year. it's almost like God is specifically trying to tell me to forget the shame. Easier said than done, let me assure you. But throughout the last two months Romans 8 keeps showing up. First, I have a small Bible study with friends at the beginning of the school year. The passage: Romans 8. We didn't finish it though. Then, during "Spiritual Renewal Week," the speaker decides to unpack Romans chapter 8. Now, after Parent's Weekend, when I decided I would try to help a friend by starting the bidding on some artwork of theirs, I own a piece of photography titled "Romans 8:1." (I lost the gamble that other people would bid on it.)
However, here's a bit of a conundrum. I know that Romans 8:1 says that there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus, but when I sit here, steeping in shame over the past and how my past has affected me, the words ring hollow. I struggle to know them as true for me, not just as true for the average Christian.
I want to know the truth that, not only am I forgiven, but that I don't have to be ashamed of what I've done. I don't have to be burdened because I sinned. And I'll admit the main problem is that while I know this intellectually, while I know this is true in my head, my heart, the seat of my emotions and thoughts, my soul does not recognize the truth. I pray God heals my heart and shows it the light. For now, I struggle to keep it out of the darkness Shame hides behind.
One day I will be free of Shame. One day, I know I will know the truth and I won't question it. I hope that that day comes very soon. Shame is a heavy burden to bear.
But holy is the Lord, who holds my heart, and my destiny in His hands. And even in my shame I will praise His name.
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