Becoming

Have you ever had a moment when you realized that you don’t really like… yourself?

I’m not talking about the face palm, “what is wrong with me?!” frustration of locked keys in the car. Nor am I referring to the deep self-loathing that accompanies chemical depression or consuming an entire pack of cookies mindlessly in front of the TV.

No, I’m referring to those rare, devastating moments of clarity when you look in the mirror and realize “what manner of man you are” (1 Cor 13). You see your features mixed together in all their God-fashioned glory and sin-tainted ruin…. And you find yourself lacking.

Ever had one of those?

A few months ago, I was talking to my husband about a friend of ours. I honestly couldn’t even tell you who we were talking about, or what I was saying. All I truly remember about the moment was the shot of unadulterated adrenaline I felt when I looked at my phone and saw the green highlighting around my clock, indicating an active phone call. I was immediately terrified, sure that I’d accidentally called someone who was now listening as I so creatively and devastatingly dismantled with my words another human to the man beside me.

Spoiler alert- it was a spam call. I felt utter relief and a hefty dose of guilt. But as my pulse steadied and my breathing calmed, I finally, truly looked in the mirror. A mirror that I think God has been shoving in my face for a while now, but I’m more dim-witted and attached to my sin than I’d dared admit before. This time, instead of scratching the smear of ketchup from my chin or admiring the freckles on my nose, I clearly saw what He so desperately wanted me to see.

The ginormous, rotting log hanging out of my eye.

You see, I was raised Southern. While exiled North of the Mason Dixon for nigh over a decade, I still retain some strong Southern roots. Some for better, some for worse. And under the “for worse” category, is this absolute obsession with public appearance. A syrupy, sweet-as-Southern-sweet-tea, outward glamour that can be recalled and used at a moment’s notice. But can often hide a rotten attitude or a sour spirit.

Chris and I used to argue about this cultural aspect. He said it was better to be blunt, honest with people. He argued the sweet tea was tainted and we’d be better off serving the black coffee of raw, uncensored opinion (Yankees, gotta love them). I, meanwhile, fervently held the view that it was simply politeness to put on a saccharin smile despite annoyance or anger, and that no one was entitled to be rude… ever. That was the ultimate evil, I stated.

But looking in that mirror, I felt the ugly truth dawn. We were both wrong, you see. The answer wasn’t more blunt honesty or more faked kindness.

It was simply being the person I want to be, the person God wants me to be, whether anyone else is watching or not.

To live a life without fear of who might over hear, to guard my tongue like the powerful tool is it, to take my frustrations and anger to God alone for solace, instead of searching out another wayward human to be my echo-chamber…

To live free. Loving and being exactly who I am in Christ, not chained down to either expectations of others or guilt over my own sin.

And so began my journey of becoming this person I so crave to be. This person who is so loved by God, I can freely share that love with others. This person who has been forgiven so much, how could I not cover another’s offense? A person who doesn’t need to give voice to every thought, who takes a breath to pause when things get heated, who doesn’t need an answer for every question or an opinion on every subject.

Am I this person now, a mere few months later? [Pause here for hysterical laughter]. I wish. But I can testify that I’ve already seen incredible healing and beauty in trying to live this way. I’ve noticed my conversations are lighter, it’s easier not to gossip and negativity rarely has an inroad to my relationships these days. In refusing to say negative and hurtful things about people, friends or foe, present or unaccounted for, I’m discovering beauty and character in people I’ve been blind to in the past.

It’s hard to give analogies. Somewhat because I don’t want to embarrass or call out my people. Mostly because I’m too embarrassed of myself. But things like, a child I’d struggled to admire, suddenly doing the most admirable thing I’d seen in a long time. Someone who’s love for me I’d doubted, showing one of the larger displays of love in an area even my own mother struggles to empathize with. An event I was dreading turning into a beautiful time of fellowship and relationship for myself and my children. Discovering camaraderie and wisdom in someone I previously would have discounted due to stupid, trivial personality differences.

I’m sorry I’m not brave enough to give specifics. Maybe come over for coffee and I’ll confess if you really need it. But the humbling, heartbreaking point it –

None of those people changed. The circumstances were the exact same. The only difference? God helped remove that stupid tree out of my eye and I could finally see that my problem all along was basically: myself.

Love that for me.

Anyways, as unfun as it is to be walloped in the back of the head with a spiritual frying pan, I am nonetheless grateful for this journey of becoming. I’m the most grateful for Jesus, Who became a man, loved and died for me while I was still rolling my eyes and shoving the mirror back into his hands, totally uninterested in what He had to say. He suffered agony, became the punishment for my filthy heart and my wayward tongue, so that when God looks at me, He doesn’t see my disgusting eye beams and rotten heart.

He sees His Son. And His Son loves me. And calls me righteous. So even when the looking is difficult, I can remember it’s always worth it on this journey of becoming more like my Savior.

With love,

Kelsey