Confessions of a Heart Under Renovation
My wife and I did our undergraduate studies at Ohio University, in the small college town of Athens, Ohio. On a hill overlooking campus are several connected buildings that made up what used to be an old state mental asylum. The asylum operated 1874 to 1993 (closing their doors only one year before I began as a freshman).
The asylum has a very curious and unsettling past. During its operation, it took care of Civil War veterans and others who were declared “insane”. The facility, with its high Victorian gothic architecture, is both beautiful and grim. Now known as The Ridges, the site has been the inspiration for many ghost stories and regularly attracts the morbidly curious. After it closed, the university purchased the property to develop it into an art museum complete with administrative spaces, classrooms, and storage space. Only a very small percentage of the facility has been renovated.
A few years ago, our family had an opportunity to visit Athens on our way back from visiting my mother in north-east Ohio. While there we thought it would be interesting to visit The Ridges and the art museum that was there. The facility was very modern. The contractors had done an excellent job removing any evidence of its previous purpose and any residual creepiness. Before we left, I noticed that there was an emergency exit that led to the east wing of the building. I didn’t open the door, but was curious to peer through the crack between the doors to catch a glimpse of the yet-to-be renovated portion of the facility.
What I saw was quite different from the modern museum behind me. From where I stood, I could see a long and empty hallway. There were no tables or chairs. Paint was peeling from the walls and ceiling. Doors were rusted. Because the fluorescent lights were no longer working, columns of light entered from large pane windows through old curtains casting uneven shadows along the hallway. This hallway led to several other rooms just out of view. It was a vast, liminal space of emptiness, shadows and past sorrow.
It was unsettling to think that what I saw through those doors was the actual condition of most of the facility.
The Renovation Process
I think this is how it is with our heart.
The human soul is vast and intricate. We’re familiar with only a small portion of it. But just when we think we’re making good progress toward spiritual maturity, Jesus will kick open a barricade to reveal a portion of our heart previously unnoticed. It will be in desperate need of renovation.
He will request our permission to continue expand His renovation project. By “permission” I mean that our partnership will be required. He is the Master Architect of our soul. Only He can do the work required. The soul will never be renovated by coddling our sins, making excuses for them, or trying to “fix ourselves” through self-help. The soul is renovated only when we embrace the cross, fix our eyes on the King, and follow Him in His prescribed direction. This requires that we allow the Lord continuous access. He’s not satisfied to be confined to the foyer while we hurriedly tidy things up before we welcome Him into the next room.
After all, He owns the house.
The Lord wants more of us. He’s always looking for little opportunities to remove little bits of our flesh to reveal more of Himself in us. He’s in no hurry to do this. Real transformation takes time–lots of it. It’s slow because the Perfect must work with the highly imperfect. We can restrict the Lord’s work when we underestimate our residual brokenness and don’t avail ourselves to His discipline. He knows how to bring about transformation because He knows us perfectly. Our place is not to recoil from His work, but to simply listen, trust His methods, and keep following Him no matter what.
Benchmarks of Transformation
Since I started this blog I wanted it to be something more than just writing posts about Bible verses and sharing my thoughts and ideas. I wanted it to be a place to document my own personal journey toward being conformed to the image of Christ.
So, in this post I’m going to do something dangerous. I’m going to confess to you what I think are my greatest besetting sins.
Why would I do this?
First, in order to document progress I need to benchmark some key indicators. The Lord has revealed these sins to me. Ultimately, I know He wants to rid me of them. I’m convinced that only He can do this. My responsibility is to take the intentional steps of allowing Him access and following His discipline. Change won’t happen overnight. As I’ve shared elsewhere, spiritual maturity isn’t measured in days or weeks but in months and years. But whether the results are good or bad I intend to report back to you on my progress.
In an age where having a presence on the internet means preserving your reputation, I realize reporting on one’s sins is an unusual approach. But to fully embrace being known is to be transparent. Giving something away disarms those who would otherwise seek to take it. There is freedom in transparency. Christ saves me from the burden of an un-preservable reputation.
But for those hoping to read something spicy about me, I’m afraid it’s going to be a disappointing list. Common stuff like lust, covetousness, greed, and indiscretion rank relatively low for me. But while my list doesn’t include “classic” sins they’re nevertheless sinful in that they indicate a lack of faith (Romans 14:23). They are things that are getting in the way of my continued transformation.
Second, we’re advised to confess our sins to one another (James 5:16). In humility, I’m confessing these sins to you. Unconfessed sin is like a mold that tends to grow inside the dark corners of our minds. When we confess our sins, we expose them to the light. They can no longer thrive unexamined and unaddressed. In my experience confession builds bonds. It gives the confessee permission to speak about their own problems which may also need exposure. This is how we participate in the sacrament of healing: We remind one another of infinite forgiveness. We re-direct our thoughts to the person we really are. We point one another to the unparalleled beauty of the One who draws us into the loving arms of complete, unconditional forgiveness. It’s critical to hear these truths from others. Truth is amplified when it echoes within the community.
This may be one of the most personal posts I ever write. I’m not trying to broadcast victimization. I’m not doing this to show false humility. I’m certainly not looking for anyone’s sympathy.
What I’m about to share with you are confessions. They’re benchmarks of my transformation that I expect will slowly evaporate over time as I take the intentional steps of pursuing Christ and embracing His cross.
Restlessness
The first sin on the list is restlessness.
I have a difficult time sitting still. Some people like to keep busy, but this isn’t what I’m talking about. For me, unless I’m doing something vitally important, there’s a little voice in my head that tells me that I should be doing something vitally important. Whether during times of leisure or engaging in mundane necessities, the little voice is always faithful to remind me that I’m wasting my time. When I believe the little voice the result is always restlessness and irrational guilt.
One way of coping is to allow the flesh access to my tongue. I’ll try to cover up my restlessness with verbal foolishness. This sometimes wanders into coarse joking and irreverent words toward others.
This restlessness could come from several places. Part of it could stem from chronic dissatisfaction in my career and the lack of challenge I feel at work. Part of it could come from the continuous draw and unsatisfied call of greater purpose and mission in my life. Part of it could be related to the weight of responsibility that comes from being a father and a husband and a fear of becoming dull or negligent in those responsibilities. It could also simply be a sign that there’s something deeper down that I need to deal with. There may even be undiagnosed medical reasons. I really don’t know where it’s coming from.
The tension we’ll experience as we learn to balance our effort with His energy will sift us (Col. 1:29). While some of the reasons for feeling restlessness may be justified, accepting guilt is not (Rom. 8:1).
Jesus Christ is my Rest. He is my Peace. My struggle lies in accepting these facts and living out their reality. It lies in rejecting false guilt and remaining confident in His unceasing sufficiency.
Perfectionism
The next on my list is perfectionism.
In this culture, perfectionism is often viewed as a virtue. I can tell you that my career has benefited from it. But I can also tell you it can be spiritually debilitating. Perfectionism can originate from a fear of judgment or disapproval of others early in someone’s life when failure to meet unrealistic goals are sometimes accompanied by the withholding of love. (I mention this to say that our sins may not always originate from our own activity.)
Aside from holding one’s own performance to an extremely high standard, perfectionism also creates a cycle of behavior involving self-condemnation and procrastination. If my performance at school or work falls below an acceptable standard, I allow guilt to penetrate my soul as a form of punishment (lest my poor performance become the “new standard”). To avoid the guilt of imperfection I will sometimes put things off that need to be done. When these things are things the Lord would direct me into, it becomes disobedience.
Perfectionism forces a happiness that depends heavily on how problem-free my day is. If everything goes well, I tend to be well-adjusted and friendly. If things didn’t go so well, I tend to be upset, quiet, and difficult to be around (especially with family). Perfectionism is linked to the degree I exercise personal efficiency. In other words, my outlook is yoked to order and productivity.
Worst of all, perfectionism causes me to unfairly project my own unrealistic work expectations onto others. This leads me to be critical of those who make simple mistakes whom I assume should know better. I’m easily agitated when things don’t go as planned due to other’s avoidable mistakes. I get particularly agitated at others when I perceive they’re wasting my time.
I remember the Spirit leading me into the thought that, “While not every day will be perfect, it can be victorious”. Of course, we’re to engage all work as if working for the Lord Himself (Col. 3:23). But he also reminds us that the world will challenge us with inherent friction (John 16:33). Very little of this is inside of our control. Much of it can’t be avoided. Ultimately, I need to relinquish whatever is holding me to these unrealistic expectations. By God’s grace it can be done. But until I’m released, my struggle is encapsulated by the Serenity Prayer of Reinhold Niebuhr:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Reinhold Niebuhr
Judgement
But by far the worst of my besetting sins is a tendency to pronounce undeserved judgment and severe criticism of others.
To “judge” someone is to ascribe false and evil motives on the hearts of others whose behaviors are questionable. When their actions are questionable, the flesh is always right there to make a quick recommendation as to why they’re doing it. (Of course, he never suggests their good intentions.) All too often I accept his “insight” and go so far as to challenge them on these false perceptions. My flesh argues that the risk of being naïve is greater than the risk of being wrong. Yet, Jesus had some pretty stern things to say about judgment and ascribing false motives (Matt. 7:1-4).
For me, this problem surfaces in some pretty strange ways. For example, I reserve my harshest judgment for those attempting to manipulate others through fallacious arguments and unethical influence. Deep down I feel this type of injustice should be exposed as often as possible. But while I feel like I’ve been given a gift of perception about certain situations, this stops short of knowing the true heart of a person. That knowledge is solely the Lord’s territory. Far better is to assume the best of intentions about their actions until they prove otherwise.
Ironically, I have a very difficult time accepting criticism. I’ve always tried to conduct myself above reproach and have always worked terribly hard. When others impugn my integrity, I will respond with sharp criticism, sarcasm, and poisonous words.
In a culture increasingly obsessed with victimization, I could blame others. Restlessness could be a clinical problem. Perfectionism could be inherited from childhood experiences. But as for judgement, I have no excuse.
I own this problem.
A Word About Mental Health
I believe every problem at its core is a spiritual problem. Whether due to the interaction of flawed humanity or problems inherent to a shattered universe caused by the Curse, every problem is a result of spiritual damage.
If true, then Jesus Christ is the solution to every problem. I don’t mean this to say that all mental health issues will be resolved miraculously. I believe the Lord’s healing comes in a variety of avenues to include professional counseling and even pharmaceuticals (when the problem is properly diagnosed and medication is prescribed). In such cases, I believe it’s important to understand, whether by miracle or by science it’s ultimately the Lord that provides the healing.
At the same time, I tend to believe that in the West we’re over-analyzed and over-medicated. Too many secular counselors and psychologists are too quick to offer trendy counter-scriptural advice. Too many well-meaning doctors are too quick to prescribe medication to treat what is actually a symptom of an underlying problem. Many (not all) problems can be resolved simply by trusting and following the Lord in an area where He wants to provide healing. Because following the Lord is rarely as easy as taking a pill, we tend to gravitate toward what might appear to be the most expedient solution.
I say all this because the problems I’ve mentioned might not be from a lack of faith after all, but symptoms of some deeper underlying problem. Maybe they only require professional counseling or medication. Then again, it could just be a matter of exercising trust in the identity of Christ (which I sense is lacking). I’m open to how the Lord will direct me. But I first want to see what the Lord can do just by merely drawing closer.
It seems like a rational place to start.
King Jesus,
You are the Architect of My Soul. You know me more deeply than I could ever imagine.
You have revealed these issues to me that I would allow You access to perform your restorative work. This is not so that I can be made more lovable to You. You could never love me more than you do right now. But this restoration is to allow even more of your Life to flow into mine. It’s to reveal more of You in me so that I can bring You even greater glory. It’s to allow me to be more conformed to Your image so that others could have a clearer vision of You through me.
You know that I can’t overcome these things by myself. You know I’ve tried. This is something only You can do. Your work in my sanctification is something that brings You joy. You are in the process of making all things new and I am one of those things. But I recognize that I have a responsibility. Mine is to draw close and find myself in complete dependence on your infinite sufficiency. Mine is to focus my sight on the only One worthy of such attention. Mine is to embrace the cross of your fashioning.
Lord Jesus, grant me the perseverance to rest upon your workbench and allow you the time to do your work. Remind me that the cross is always worth the pain.
Be glorified.
Amen
Image credit: Ohio University Photography Supervisor Ben Siegel, OhioToday Alumni News; https://ohiotoday.org/the-ridges/