There’s quite a bit in my past that is, how should I say it… not mentionable in the church scene. Sure, we’re told that we need to confess, but some of the details that shaped us are to be omitted because they could cause others to stumble (or embarrass them). So we paint a very general picture with phrases of “I spent time running wild” and “I experimented…” or “I walked away from the faith…” As parents, it’s even worse. How can we parent our kiddos in a life of righteousness when we’re ashamed of or in denial of any mistakes made in our own past? We’ve been encouraged to white-wash, sugar-coat, and tone-down our wrong-doings. What is it that causes us to present an image to our kiddos and the world that is less than honest? Just a little twist in the presentation in order to lead others to believe a path of perfection or “not-too-bad” instead of the rocky, tumultuous path we were saved on and from?
When we’re children, for the most part, we have a version of our parents that we take as a standard to live up to. We want to be just like them, we want to please them, we want them to be proud of us, and there’s often a desire to prove ourselves to them. They are the picture of perfection for their offspring (and anyone else that’s watching). As children get older, however, the picture tends to adjust. We start seeing the areas that were not visible before, we’re able to see the similarities of mistakes made in ourselves and our own parents, we’re able to make sense of situations that can only make sense in hindsight, and we often find that we unfortunately placed our parents on the same level as God. Parents fail, but God never does.
It’s so easy to see our failings these days. Let’s face it, all you have to do is scroll through social media. Filters smooth out age spots and wrinkles, teenagers look happily perfect with their parents and siblings (they’re all the best of friends), and homes look like Chip and Joanna Gaines just finished fixing it up. It’s what’s presented to the world, and very few – if any – have a picture that rings true. And then we look at what we have, see how we compare, and find ourselves with a stack of failures.
Social media isn’t the only place that we’re inundated with the tendency to compare our own life with others, but it’s a big one. We see the children who have perfectly combed hair, bright clean clothes, and posing in a really cool experience. Then there’s my kiddos… hair bands cannot contain the tresses, clothes rarely match (especially the socks – if they’re wearing any), and they’re usually in an every-day moment that involves a mess. Without even realizing it, there’s judgments made in practically everything we see or hear. We look at how other parents are with their kiddos and we compare. We look at the successes of others and we compare. We make assumptions and compare. We see things through the filter provided and compare. The filters of religious requirements, parental perfection, sugary-sweet siblings, and happily-ever-after do nothing but send us into a dissatisfaction that leads to despair.
Every time we compare, we’re given the choice of adding filters of our own, omitting truths, and sharing only what is socially (and religiously) acceptable. Comparisons can be useful, but usually simply lead to living a dissatisfied life. The Bible warns about the folly of comparing our life with others (Galatians 6:4, II Corinthians 10:12, Galatians 1:10, are just a few). There have been times, though, when comparisons have led to a good dissatisfaction.
I mentioned in my post, The Church, that I was intrigued by long-time friends who had joy. They experienced hardships, yet they never seemed to waiver in their faith. One of my friends had lost his father to a tragic work accident. At the funeral, he shared a few words and stated that he did not blame God for his father’s death. Yes, he mourned, he hurt, and had to navigate a life without his father, but he never doubted God and His love. I spent years feeling dissatisfied with my relationship with God versus my friend’s. This comparison was what led me to search for who God really is. Often, our presentation of God in us is what motivates others to examine their own walk.
“You have to have a holy dissatisfaction with mediocrity before you can experience all that God has for you. It doesn’t happen accidentally or automatically. If you don’t pursue it, you won’t get it.” ~Andrew Wommack, Living in God’s Best – Don’t Settle for Less
This holy dissatisfaction is what keeps bringing me further and further away from a lifestyle that leads to death. It caused me do some introspection of who I knew my Father to be, who I know Him to be, and helps me explain who He is to others. It may not sound productive, but I started comparing my imperfect parenting to God’s perfect parenting.
- When my kiddos were being potty-trained, there were quite a few accidents. Frustrations abounded. At any point, the smelliest or messiest, did I stop loving them? I always saw them, even through the mess, as my kiddo who I loved. Does God love me less in my mess?
- My kiddos, ranging from adulthood to preschool, have all gone through the process of learning the basic muscle control functions in regards to sitting up, standing, walking and running. They even ride bikes, scooters, and roller skates/blades. There are times, however, that they still fall – even when just taking a single step. I don’t turn my back on them, ashamed that they missed a step or fell. Is God ashamed of me when I fall?
- While my kiddos often do not have on matching clothes (they like to dress themselves), they could usually benefit from a bath, and they also don’t always make the right choices, I still look at them and swell with pride – Those are MY kiddos. Is God proud of me only when I’m picture-perfect?
- Is the love I have for my kiddos contingent on their behavior? Is God’s love for me contingent on my behavior?
Does God love me less in my mess? NO! Is God ashamed of me when I fall? NO! Is God proud of me only when I’m picture-perfect? NO! Is God’s love for me contingent on my behavior? NO!
“You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:6-8 (NIV)
When we were powerless (we had no possible way to save ourselves), while we were still sinners (falling on our face, drowning in our mess, and the definition of unloveliness)… God demonstrated His love for us when Christ died in our place. Even before the cross, God saw us through the filter of love for His creation, but now, for all who have accepted Christ’s sacrifice, He sees us through the filter of Christ’s righteousness.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: the old has gone, the new has come! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” II Corinthians 5:17-21 (NIV)
Without going off on a tangent, I can’t help but bring up the crazy notion that there are people who believe that God, the same God we’re in right-standing with, would strike someone with disease, disabilities, depression, homelessness, or any other hardship. It all goes back to knowing who we have for a Father. So, I ask: who’s your Daddy?
My Daddy loves me so much that He took everything evil found in this world and carried it on Himself to the cross because it was a burden we could never bear. All of the evil that happens, that He’s blamed for by those made in His very own image, does nothing to make His love for His accusers waiver. My Daddy looks at me and sees me as holy and righteous – right now – because He sees me through the TRUE filter of Christ’s righteousness. When He sees me, He sees Jesus. No mismatched socks, unruly hair, or smelly mess. He sees me and is bursting with pride and couldn’t possibly love me more.
Let’s pay attention to the filters being used. Are you seeing yourself the way God sees you? Are you experiencing a holy dissatisfaction with the filter you see God through? Ask yourself, “Who’s your Daddy?” If your answer leaves you lacking or with feelings of being condemned, correct your filter. Start seeing Him as the good and loving Father that He paid the ultimate price to be.