As I turn pages in the seventh chapter, I’m gripped by this proclamation. By the subsequent question.
A wise and kind and thoughtful friend replies to the author’s inquiry.
She offers reliable, gracious wisdom. “You’ve suffered three betrayals. More than any person should.” she says.
I paraphrase my perception of the conversation found on page one hundred eight.
But in this third betrayal, well, it’s a betrayal of yourself.
You haven’t held true to who you really are. You haven’t valued the you who is. Your decisions haven’t followed the threads of your life. You would not have allowed someone this type of access previously. You’ve shortchanged the deep-seated sense of who you are in your soul and spirit.
With tender words and a powerful voice this trusted mentor gently draws out truths worthy of consideration.
I keep returning to these paragraphs in my mind for several days.
And I wonder, How have each one of us betrayed ourselves? Detracted from? Valued too much or too little? Compromised or taken shortcuts? Believed the deception or agreed with the belittlement? Hunted for platform or persona? Hidden from authentic affirmation? Hoped to be applauded or lauded? Given in because it was easier than going on? Shied away? Stepped aside. Let diminishment define us. Held exaggerated ideals impossible to reach.
I’ve spent a lot of my life living into other people’s beliefs, expectations, and preferences for me.
Often questioned who I even am or who I want to be.
Acted in ways I regret. Hurt others.
Stayed too long in places. Resisted conflict.
Allowed my inner critic and insecurities to operate my navigation system.
Sat in stifling places because the community I desired didn’t seem to exist in my actual neighborhood.
I’ve sought significance when I should have shown up secure in the person Jesus crafted me to be.
Longed for admiration when I would have served myself better by settling into quiet soul affirmations.
I’ve berated myself more than I could ever count. Believed labels I put on myself and let others assign to me.
I’ve largely lacked love for myself.
In the last few years, I’ve begun to believe strongly that we cannot serve others, sit with others, love others well, if we do not, first find our healthy sense of self, center ourselves, offer utmost compassion and love to ourselves.
Without this introspection, this abundance of imagination, this inward examination of our intrinsic nature, we rather, welcome daily betrayal of ourselves.
We can’t lay down self when we’re living an uncentered boundary-less life.
Dwelling at either end of the spectrum will never serve us well.
Self-importance and arrogance betray us. Self-criticism and self-hatred waylay us.
Self-absorption sells us out. Self-demeaning statements sabotage us.
We can’t offer to others what we do not have. We can’t gift a compassion or kindness we do not carry inside ourselves. We are consumed by what we consume.
We betray ourselves when we ignore the beauty and wonder Christ created in each of us.
We betray ourselves when we try to force ourselves into black-and-white boxes and try to forget we are complex creatures who always, always carry the both/and.
We betray ourselves when we ruminate only in all that we get wrong or revel only in all we do so obviously right.
It’s a work in progress. A series of steps. A retraining of brain patterns. A resting in the identity of one in whom Christ dwells and delights.
The finding of safe people who form circles of trust around us.
Engaging in self-examination in all the best ways.
Maybe it’s pausing in our own seventh chapter, stepping back as an observer, and realizing we are making way for re-evaluation.
Maybe it’s finally naming places we have outgrown. Noticing this land of in-between.
A becoming that will always be a becoming, a forming, a refining all of our days.
It is hard work. Don’t doubt that. Don’t be surprised by this. Find relief in it. See the acceptance in it. Embrace the empathy it offers.
Don’t give up. Look up.
Keep it up.
Loyalty. Faithfulness. Staying.
These are opposites of betrayal.
Name who you are.
Name who you want to be.
Listen to your life.
Pay attention to your life.
Live into who you actually are.
Look in the mirror and recognize that we only know what we know.
Underline the passage.
Sit with words.
Be true to yourself. It’s clique.
Cliques and stereotypes exist for a reason.
They carry universal truths in them.
They offer arrows pointing to a path with purpose. Acknowledge them. Listen to the story they are telling.
Let your life speak.
What places might we need to probe?
How will we stay true to who we are? What’s one small way we can begin to create amends for the betrayal we’ve allowed to become part of our story? Let’s pen a short list of the delightful aspects of our intrinsic selves. Write out a list of the essential characteristics we carry. Name who we would be if we lived wholeheartedly in the rhythms of our own actual lives.
List the people who call this out in us. The wisest friend who gently beckons us into the frame of who we truly are. Note the faces who treasure our vulnerability of soul.
