Ouch. This chapter hit home for me.
"In an effort to save yourself (and others) from pain, sometimes you start to hit the mute button on your own life" (p 173).
It doesn't start out as an intentional lie, that little phrase, "I'm fine!" usually accompanied with a cheerful smile.
Now, for the record: a friend of mine taught me about "tiered responses" - how you don't have to tell every person who asks, "How are you?" how you really are feeling on the inside. Sometimes, "I'm fine!" is the right thing to say to a person you do not trust to handle your tender soul with care.
But sometimes - even with the right tier of people who WILL handle us tenderly - somehow it ends up becoming a lie because we don't want to bother others with our pain. Or suffering. Or confusion.
Then what happens? "You don't feel nearly as entitled to the full spectrum of emotions - from joy to sorrow - that you wouldn't mind hearing from a loved one" (p 173).
We shortchange ourselves. We stand in the way of our own healing by not admitting the beautiful, terrible reality of life as we experience it.
Isn't it funny (in a terrible way, I mean) that we'll sacrifice almost anything for someone else, but can't imagine someone doing the same for us? So we start to tell lies instead when our life is shattered because we don't want to bother others with it.
(We don't want to be "the bad thing" that reminds others that life is fragile and that bad things can happen to them too.)
And then we start to feel guilty for lying. And then we think God will abandon us for our lack of faith.
But Psalm 46:10 is just the assurance we need: "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging" (Psalm 46:1-3).
When the world as we know it "has been upended, it is right there we can find shelter with God, our refuge. God is our safe place, not after the worst is over or before the other shoe drops. But right in the midst of our pain and grief and loss" (p 175).
Pastor Allison
I'm curious:
Have you ever tried the "A Good Enough Step" kind of prayer on p 178 using Psalm 46:10?
It's one I use and have taught others. If you're looking for a simple prayer to give you words when you can't find them yourself (the Psalms are good for that kind of thing!), try using this grounding prayer and notice how, as the words drop away, so too (hopefully) will the burdens you are carrying. And maybe even the lies you've been telling yourself or others.
