Hatred: A Heavy Burden

This past Christmas season, my family and I read suggested scriptures from an Advent Calendar. One night, we read this entry: “Jesus came to lift our burdens. One of the heaviest burdens we carry is that of hate. In teaching us to forgive, the Lord set us free.” This season, I came to know just how that true that really is.

Because of some events surrounding Thanksgiving, I had already been reflecting on the many ways I needed to remove the beam from my own eye instead of trying to remove the mote from everyone else's. It seemed that I kept catching myself committing similar sins to those I'd been criticizing in others. They may have been different in the way they manifested, but underneath the surface, they were the same. As I saw this, it became easier to forgive others and my heart began to feel more of this freedom.

However, the feeling was challenged mid-season as I found myself once again facing this burden of hatred in some form. Emotions like resentment, desire for revenge and the fulfillment of angry desires in reaction to being wronged by others swirled around me and at times even entered my own heart. Then I read this entry, along with these scriptures.

Matthew 18:21-22 is the scripture where Jesus says we should forgive those who wrong us repeatedly. Not just seven times, but seventy times seven. As I explained to my daughter that night that the numbers were symbols for an infinity of forgiveness, my heart was pricked and I knew that forgiveness would always be required of me and others no matter how many times we were wronged.

Then I read Matthew 6:14-15, which says, “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” My own deep need to be forgiven became very real to me again and I began to remember how free it feels to just forgive. I let go and enjoyed the Spirit of Christmas to a greater degree after that.

Yet another time near the end of the season, I felt wronged again. This time it was personal. I was angry. I needed time. I needed to experience all the emotions flowing through me and then, I had to humble myself in prayer. I had to ask the Lord to do what I could not do: help me to love the one whom I felt had wronged me. And as I prayed and wept, thoughts of my own hypocrisy came back to me again along with these words: “[The person who wronged you] is trying the best they can. They have flaws just like you. Their flaws are just different than yours. But in their heart they have no malice toward you. They are doing the best they can.” It seemed as though a window opened in my mind into the life of this person. New understanding came about the way they might see things and I wept all the more as my heart was released from the chains of hatred. I made amends, and after that, it seemed as though I was soaring through my days, free to concern myself with my own dreams, the joys of my family, and when necessary, the beams in my own eye, rather than being weighed down by my hatred of someone else's mote.

I'm so thankful for the way the Lord teaches me when I allow Him to. I'm so thankful for the way He changes my heart when I ask Him to. Truly, God's Son is the greatest gift ever given in all of eternity. What He can do for you and me is simply amazing.

Strive Not for the Mastery, Forgive Yourself

I had a very humbling experience this week. I said something I should not have. I have done that lots of times. I've thought things about people that I shouldn't have. I've judged others and never said so out loud, but made them feel judged with my little comments and little actions here and there. I've always known I wasn't perfect. I have always said that out loud and believed it myself. But today, a part of the facade that is my self broke down a little further. A little more of my pride gave way to a little more humility.

I have this subconscious but desperate need to control as much as I can. Whether it's my scheduled life, my work, my children, my friends, my family, or the circumstances I find myself in, I like to feel like I'm in control. As long as I'm busying myself controlling other people and things (which takes a lot of energy since I can't actually do it), I don't have enough energy left for adequately meeting my own needs. So I have plenty of excuses when I am less than in control of myself.

Of course, I have only recently discovered this. It's quite enlightening to see yourself through a psychologist's eyes.

Today, I saw a nasty truth about myself: I am actually a pretty disrespectful person. All my efforts to become more Christlike and I still will do and say things that are just flat out disrespectful, inconsiderate, and selfish. I'm not sure why, but it does not come naturally to me to just enter into an interaction with a person and be completely considerate of their feelings the whole time. Like the Anatomy of Peace book says, I see too many people too often as objects rather than as real people with real needs and real feelings, just like me. Oh, I'm very good at acting the part, and even doing so out of a genuine desire to help you and do the Christlike charitable thing, but I'm not sure that all of my respectful actions don't have to be just a little bit forced. Maybe it's easier to understand if I say it this way: I do respectful things because I know I'm supposed to, not necessarily always because I deeply respect the people I'm talking to. Now if that's not opening up a vein on my blog, then I don't know what is! Yikes! I only bear my ugly soul to you when I think there might be someone out there whom it can actually help. Anyone? Anyone out there? Moving on...

I have this sort of tunnel vision when I am on a task, that I do not have time to stop long enough for niceties, I just need to get something done and I will blow by you in the process if I have to. I wonder why my daughter does certain things and I realize it's because I model it for her. Sigh.

Something sort of amazing happened today, though. When I admitted this to myself and the Lord, I was asking his forgiveness, and all these things I've been learning lately from James Jones started coming to me. About how I am a perfectionist because I have been trying to prove to myself and the world that I am okay. That I am not broken. He says that people try to focus on fixing everyone else because it is too painful for them to try to work on fixing themselves, because that would mean working through the pain of the past, or the pain of admitting failure. He says I have to forgive myself and realize that I am an okay person, even though I make mistakes. I have to somehow be okay with myself, even happy with myself, after years and years of meticulous self-criticism.

So all this was coming to me and for the first time since I heard his advice, I had a real life opportunity to apply it to my current situation. I was disrespectful of someone when I should have been compassionate. I felt guilty, but I decided I did not want to dwell on this all day. We had planned a special afternoon as a family at a farm with a pumpkin patch and I was determined not to let anything ruin the experience. So I spent an hour or so this morning in prayer, study and reflection to make sure my heart was at peace before we left. It took that long, and even longer as I began to write out my feelings. As I repented in prayer, I asked the Lord to take this seed of disrespect – no, this well grown vibrant chokeweed – and cast it out of my soul. I wept. I remembered many times when I was disrespectful – to my mother, to my sister, to my niece, to my daughter, to my husband, to perfect strangers when I cut in front of them to reach something I needed, or to friends when I can't even wait until they finish speaking before I say my part. It's like I've been walking around in my own little egocentric world, like an emotional five year old, where everything else revolves around me and I am blind to the needs of others!

I asked Him to remove this tendency from me, to help me to turn this weakness into a strength. Then I turned to James 3.

“My brethren, be not many masters.” (The footnote says teachers.)

Ok, so I should not be trying to give advice to everyone else and tell them what they should do. I should not be trying to school everyone about how they ought to live or perform. Control them. Another footnote gives a more clear translation: “Strive not for the mastery.”

This brought a new thought to me, and though it may not be what James intended, it spoke volumes to my heart. It was as though the Lord was saying to me: Tiffany, stop trying to be perfect. You are not. That is why I am here for you to help you. Stop trying to do it all on your own and partake of the Atoning sacrifice of the Savior. He will help you turn this weakness to strength, but you cannot be perfect now. Just accept that and forgive yourself.”

So I did.

I wept, and then I really forgave myself.

You don't realize how huge this is. Normally, I would dwell on this the entire day and let it completely ruin my experiences for days to come. I would have been melodramatic, needy and selfish, so consumed by my own drama that I would not have noticed the needs of others or at least I would have begrudged having to meet them. What bondage I would have placed myself in!

But I forgave myself. Doing so was perhaps the most liberating thing I've done … ever.

I wasn't just forgiving myself for this one infraction. This was the beginning of forgiving myself for not measuring up my entire life. This was the beginning of letting go of my workaholic and codependent tendencies. I had more energy today than I've had in years!

I will continue to pray for the Lord to purify me. For, there are those who I truly desire to help, because I love them deeply. I want to help them, though my efforts may come across as controlling and judgmental. I'm trying to change that.

More help comes from the beloved James, the brother of Jesus, when he wrote: “Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? Let him shew out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom. … The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.” (James 3: 13, 17, 18).

May the Lord first make me pure, that I might be peaceable, full of mercy and good fruits, including the fruit of a deep respect for all people, “which are made after the similitude of God” (James 3:9).