What is your reaction when a friend comes to you and says, “I want to be honest with you, there’s something about you that I need to tell you”?
Most of us dread this type of interaction. If your friend has a compliment, you are only too glad to have him say it; you don’t even draw him apart from the crowd to hear it. But if he finds it necessary to share one of your shortcomings, you would really rather have him keep it to himself, thank you very much.
Many strategies have been developed as to the best way of dealing with a person’s faults. An often-used approach is to first give the person praise in order to soften the criticism that follows. Dale Carnegie proposed that if you want to win friends and influence people you should not criticize at all. He had a point. The average person resists facing up to their faults; quite likely they will reject the person who points out their error.
Jesus gave an explanation for this when he said, “All who do evil hate the light and refuse to go near it for fear their sins will be exposed” (John 3:20). Each one of us possesses a natural dislike for rebuke. We have a built-in resistance to seeing our shortcomings. We react to reproof as we react to pain. The tendency is to shrink away, to protect ourselves from what we wish were not so. James bluntly described our sinful nature in this way:
What is causing the quarrels and fights among you? Don’t they come from the evil desires at war within you? You want what you don’t have, so you scheme and kill to get it. You are jealous of what others have, but you can’t get it, so you fight and wage war to take it away from them. Yet you don’t have what you want because you don’t ask God for it. And even when you ask, you don’t get it because your motives are all wrong—you want only what will give you pleasure. —James 4:1–3
A man in our town suffered ill health for a year. He was one who didn’t like to go to doctors; he was afraid they might tell him something he did not want to hear. When the man could no longer tolerate his pain, he visited a physician who informed him he suffered from a malignancy that would kill him within a few months.
“There might have been good hope for your recovery if you had come sooner,” the doctor said.
This man didn’t want to face the truth. He believed that by denying he suffered or by ignoring the pain he somehow would get by. However, because of his delay in seeking a diagnosis, his life came to an abrupt ending.
We have a built-in resistance to seeing our shortcomings.
As we interact with a variety of people throughout the day, it appears more sensible—or at least easier—to ignore one’s own fault or that of another. But the results are strained relationships, strife, discord, and personal misery. A simple, effective alternative is, “If we are living in the light, as God is in the light, then we have fellowship with each other, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:7).
Humanly speaking, when you step from darkness into light, your first impulse is to close your eyes or turn away. I have found that when we approach the Bible and it reproves us, the response is similar. One wants to turn away because the feeling is unpleasant. But the Bible tells us that Jesus’ words are beneficial to us! Jesus said:
Blessed are all who hear the word of God and put it into practice.
—Luke 11:28The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life.
—John 6:63
Reading God’s Word and applying it to your life is a sure way to get at the truth about yourself. However, studying the Bible requires intentionality and no one can force you to take the time to actually do it.
Facing the Truth
A young couple stepped into my office. “How is it that at times we can be so cooperative, so loving toward each other, and fifteen minutes later so opposed, so hostile, so cold?” asked Ryan, the husband. “How is it possible that we can pray together and feel united in our faith, but when Sunday is past, or our time of morning devotions is over, we don’t even think of God and we battle each other?”
Ryan then opened the door on their lives to afford a glimpse inside. He remembered the day he and Grace, his wife, had driven to the city hospital and parked. As they glanced up to the eighth floor, Ryan breathed a prayer for their three-year-old son who hovered there between life and death. “Dear God, we love our boy and we want him, but may your will be done. Help us to be worthy parents and give Jimmy a happy home.”
At that moment Ryan and Grace felt closer to each other than at any time in their lives. Arm in arm they walked to the door and made their way up to the boy’s room. Jimmy was asleep. A fluid of some sort was being fed from a bottle into his arm. The parents looked at their son and their hearts beat as one for him. Ryan felt that he could never speak harshly to the boy again, that he could know no selfishness toward his son. Jimmy recovered. What joy for Ryan and Grace to bring him home! But after a week, the feelings Ryan experienced at the hospital had changed. In fact, antagonism toward both his wife and son crept into his heart.
The boy had been waited on night and day in the hospital. After he arrived home, Grace kept up the pampering. This provoked Ryan.
“You need to let him do things for himself,” he said to his wife.
One evening Jimmy was playing on the floor near the sofa where his parents were reading. Insistently, he said his mother should go into the next room and fetch his favorite truck. She put down her magazine and started for the toy.
“Let him go for it himself, Grace,” Ryan said.
“I don’t mind getting it for him,” she replied.
Ryan nearly exploded. “You’re spoiling him! All he needs to do is point a finger and you jump.”
Ryan insisted that the boy get his own toy. The child begged and pleaded and began to whine. Grace became increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, she defied her husband and got the truck. Jimmy was happy, but his father was enraged.
After Jimmy went to bed, a silence developed between the parents. Ryan felt quite justified for having taken his stand. Grace felt Ryan was being too strict. Whereas in the car outside the hospital and by their son’s bedside they had shared the tenderest of feelings and identical goals, now they were distinctly opponents.
The associations of most people parallel at some time the fluctuating course in which Ryan and Grace found themselves. The details vary, but the theme is the same. What father has not pledged himself to being a great dad and a wonderful husband and then has not found himself so angry at both his children and his wife that he is capable of lashing out and hurting the very ones he loves?
The daily requirements of marriage, or the give-and-take situations that arise between college roommates, or the compromise necessary for members of a committee or an athletic team will always reveal our character.
The Bible describes this dilemma:
I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it … I want to do what is right, but I can’t.… I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway … it is sin living in me. —Romans 7:15–20
As the truth about your behavior becomes clear, you will either face it directly or turn from it. You will mellow or harden, depending on what you choose to do about your discovery.
What is it that keeps Ryan and Grace from making good on their commitment to live consistently? They must be saved from themselves. Just a few verses later, in the same chapter of Romans, the apostle Paul wrote describes the solution to his dilemma:
I love God’s law with all my heart. But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. —Romans 7:22–25
Any person who would hit the target of consistency must be saved from the sin within that causes him to miss the mark. She must first discover and then face the truth about herself. He must realize that God alone is the only One who can help him. John sums this up very well when he says,
If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness. If we claim we have not sinned, we are calling God a liar and showing that his word has no place in our hearts. —1 John 1:8–10
When the problem of their sin was brought to their attention, both Ryan and Grace responded negatively. “Are you calling us sinners?” they said incredulously. They found it hard to face the truth, even though they were fully aware that their behavior was causing serious problems between them. They knew they both missed the mark that they had agreed to aim at.
As the truth about your behavior becomes clear, you will either face it directly or turn from it.
How thoughtful and compassionate and generous we intend to be toward others in our relationships. Husbands and wives, roommates and friends, or business partners and associates chart a course that each fully expects to follow. But somewhere along the way the trail is lost, one deviates from the path, and the target is missed. God says this waywardness is sin. “All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God’s paths to follow our own” (Isaiah 53:6). The truth is, each one of us wants our own way.
Yet who wants to agree that such failure is sin? Rather than face the truth, a person makes excuses:
“I’m crabby today because I’m tired.”
“I yelled at my child (or my spouse) because their stubbornness makes me so mad I can hardly see straight.”
“I’m right on this one, they never listen to me.”
The Truth Remains: Sin Stands in the Way
Ryan and Grace left my office, assuring each other of their devotion to one another and to their son. They renewed their vows never to fall short again. But they were soon back. They couldn’t inspire each other to be consistent.
“How can this be happening?” they asked. “We are Christians, what can we do?”
In the Bible we read these words from John: “My dear children, I am writing this to you so that you will not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate who pleads our case before the Father. He is Jesus Christ, the one who is truly righteous. He himself is the sacrifice that atones for our sins—and not only our sins but the sins of all the world” (1 John 2:1–2).
We must be careful with the word “sin”; we must be sure of its meaning. Sin is the inability to do the good God wants us to do; it is the drive within us that causes us to do what we don’t want to do (see Romans 7:14–19).
Ryan and Grace have moments when both agree that they are violently opposed to each other. Yet when they are confronted with the truth, they deny it and attempt to reassure each other that all is well. But it isn’t. They want peace, but they are fighting the process that leads to peace. They are failing to take advantage of one of the important benefits of marriage—self-discovery. Because the tendency is to fight against such discovery, many find marriage distasteful. They do not like to be reproved, even if the criticism is true.
The same holds true regarding work, social, and church relationships. My interaction with Josh illustrates the point.
Josh wanted to clear up the gnawing sense of anxiety and growing unhappiness that plagued him, hopefully before anyone found out his condition; so he sought professional counseling. He would rather have died than have his associates learn that he was bored with church and its activities, dissatisfied with his wife, and annoyed with his fellow employees at work.
But the counseling experience was a shattering one for him. The counselor he first went to see, who Josh eventually felt was a non-Christian, pressed him to share his antagonisms, and Josh did not like it. He insisted he had no antagonisms. He firmly maintained that since he was a Christian he loved everyone and was nice to all. Still the counselor probed. Finally, Josh blew his top.
Afterward he was ashamed. He had been a poor example of what a Christian ought to be. The counselor pointed out that Josh was filled with anger and hatred toward people, rather than with love. Josh left that counselor convinced that the guy simply didn’t know what he was talking about.
Then Josh came to see me. He was confused. Was he a Christian, or wasn’t he? He had asked God to give him love toward all persons. Hadn’t he meant it? “Since this counselor forced me to blow up,” he said, “I’ve been pretty nasty to a lot of other people.” What evil thing, he wanted to know, had the counselor done to him?
What had the counselor done? He had led Josh to the truth about himself. What truth? That he was an angry man with hatred burning in his heart toward the people with whom he worshiped at church, toward his own wife and family, toward the people he worked alongside of at the office, and now, toward the counselor, who, he maintained, had caused him to blow his top.
Josh wants God to give him peace, but he doesn’t want to live God’s way.
Because Josh pretended to be a happy man, he wanted to believe that he was one. That was why, since becoming a Christian, he had always acted politely to everyone. His annoyance was his own secret. He controlled himself for the sake of his testimony. The psalmist describes such a man in this way: “His words are as smooth as butter, but in his heart is war. His words are as soothing as lotion, but underneath are daggers!” (Psalm 55:21).
Pretending to be happy didn’t make Josh happy. Yet he believed that he was a happy man. He was only being true to human form. “The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?” (Jeremiah 17:9).
Josh told himself that he was a nice, loving, happy man. But he refused to recognize the deceit of his heart. What the counselor had done was to expose Josh to himself, to lay open the falseness of his heart. He pushed Josh to see that his smooth, soft words covered a bitter war of hate and malice raging inside his heart.
Through some reflection, Josh might have discovered this truth for himself. Like a fever that warns that all is not well in the body, the gnawing sense of uneasiness in his relationships with others ought to have made him aware that all was not well between him and the people in his life. But Josh did the natural thing—he disregarded the symptoms, denying the truth.
Because he was a Christian, Josh did not want to admit to himself that there was anything in his heart but love. And this is where many Christians often encounter difficulty. Unlike non-Christians, who can despise others and unashamedly justify their position, Christians know they have a high and noble standard to measure up to. Non-Christians may settle for a less exacting standard. They know that if they fail, everyone else fails as much as they. So why not relax instead of trying to change the world? But for Christians, God’s standard allows no bitterness and strife. Therefore, if they are not always what they know they should be, they at least can attempt to act like it.
Josh was proud of his acting ability. “Usually I control my anger,” he said. “Don’t I get any credit for that?” His ability to act lovingly toward others presented an impressive testimony; but it did not satisfy him. As he became aware that he was only acting, the truth shook him up; he began to lose the control that he had so tightly held.
“I’m confused. Why doesn’t God give me peace?” he asked.
Though the truth told him that he was only acting, he found it hard to admit it. How hard it is to help a self-righteous man! Josh wants God to give him peace, but he doesn’t want to live God’s way. He sees no need to turn to God for help. But the Bible tells us, “It’s your sins that have cut you off from God. Because of your sins, he has turned away and will not listen anymore” (Isaiah 59:2).
Repentance is hard. We tend to defend ourselves. Time after time Josh insisted he was an innocent man. He said the fault was with the people around him, including the counselor. Nevertheless, the facts contradicted him. His sin separated him from God and denied him God’s peace.
When he finally did focus on the true picture of himself, he became not repentant but defensive, dismissing his own responsibility. “The counselor egged me on,” Josh said repeatedly, insisting that the flare-up was not his fault.
One day he admitted that maybe he did lack love for certain people. But if he did, he asked petulantly, why didn’t God give it to him? Now he blamed God for his anger. Josh refused to accept the truth of his sin, and peace continued to elude him.
When you get a glimpse of your true nature, it is to be expected that you will want to dodge the truth. But be aware that when you deny what you find in the recesses of your life, the result will be anxiousness and a vague unhappiness that slowly envelop you in their tentacles.
Fifteen-year-old Steve described himself as easy to get along with. But he came for counseling because of his temper. He had been thrown off the baseball team for fighting. Once at home, his mother demanded that he study instead of going outside to play a pickup game with his friends. Steve became so incensed that he threw his ball through the living room picture window.
When I asked him about this display of temper, he dismissed any responsibility for it with a shrug. “Oh, I only get mad with my mother,” he said. “Anybody would around her.”
“What about the fights you get into at school?” I asked.
“Well, if you’d been in my place, you’d have punched them out too. Anyone with guts would have. You’d defend yourself, wouldn’t you?”
Steve was a self-willed boy. He had no friends because they refused to put up with his lack of consideration and his quick fists. In spite of all the facts, Steve still insisted that he was an easygoing fellow. He really believed it; he was unhappy that others did not. He refused to accept the truth about his behavior.
Sheila came to my office because she was suffering from exhaustion. She was busy as a deacon in the church, made weekly calls on Sunday School absentees, served on the counseling team of the citywide youth rally, and headed the planning committee of the local Christian women’s organization. Sheila hardly ever missed a meeting at church. She also played tennis once a week and faithfully followed her son’s high school sports career.
Sheila was a young, active adult, and yet she was tired all the time. Her doctor could find no physical cause for her complaints.
In talking with her I learned that a year before, a trusted partner had cheated Sheila out of her half of their business. I also learned that the demanding schedule Sheila followed had started about the time of her loss. She had no explanation.
“I’ve got the time to do the things I’ve always wanted to do,” she said. “I’m glad I can do them.”
“You mean you are thankful that you lost your business?” I asked.
“I had committed the business to God,” she replied. “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.”
“Were you as busy when you had your business as you are now?” I asked.
“Oh, busier. I was pretty much unstoppable,” she smiled.
“Did you get exhausted then?”
“Not at all.”
“So, you aren’t as busy as you were before, but you’re on the verge of a mental and physical breakdown. How do you explain that?”
She couldn’t. I asked if she still had contact with the person who had cheated her. She replied that their paths crossed occasionally. “We see each other. I hold no hard feelings at all toward her.”
“What was your reaction toward her when you first learned that she had cheated you?” I inquired.
“Must we go into that?” she said, obviously irritated. “The incident is past. I have forgiven her. Let’s forget it!” Sheila was annoyed and the flush of her skin indicated that she was certainly angry.
In later interviews it became clear that Sheila was carrying a grudge against her former partner. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was a deeply bitter woman. Rather than face her reactions to an injustice, Sheila had tried to bury them in a flurry of activity. Though she maintained a good front outwardly, the inward decay had pushed her to a point of near-collapse.
Stop Struggling—Come to Terms with Your Own Faults
The first step toward peace is to self-discovery. The second is to embrace the truth you find.
You will get fleeting glimpses of your true self, and sometimes a very clear picture, as you interact with other people, as you read the Bible, as the ministry of others touches your life. The natural reaction is to shrink away from your findings. But if you do not truly come to terms with your own faults, you will struggle against yourself in your quest for peace.
Embrace your sin, confess it to God, and then allow the Holy Spirit to change your heart and mind.
You don’t need to run from yourself and thereby add more trouble onto the trouble you already have. The resources of heaven are yours to apply against the character defects you discover. Jesus died to forgive your sins! “He [God] has enabled you to share in the inheritance that belongs to his people, who live in the light. For he has rescued us from the kingdom of darkness and transferred us into the Kingdom of his dear Son, who purchased our freedom and forgave our sins” (Colossians 1:12–14).
Furthermore, God will give you daily strength if you let him.
Offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. Sin is no longer your master, for you no longer live under the requirements of the law. Instead, you live under the freedom of God’s grace. —Romans 6:13–14
But now you are free from the power of sin and have become slaves of God. Now you do those things that lead to holiness and result in eternal life. —Romans 6:22
The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. —Galatians 5:22
Take a good, hard look at yourself. Allow God to show you what is currently in your life that is causing you to be unhappy. Embrace your sin, confess it to God, and then allow the Holy Spirit to change your heart and mind.
Reflection Questions
- What is your typical response when one of your faults is pointed out to you?
- Are there people in your life who are experiencing some of the difficulties presented in this chapter? What is your typical response to them when they share their life situations with you?
- What is your reaction to the principle that your faults are actually “sin”?
- As you consider your own desire for peace, what honest evaluation needs to take place in your life?
- What are you willing to do to experience peace?
Take One Action Step
Ask God to show you what is currently in your life that is causing you to be unhappy. If it is your own sin, confess it to God, and ask the Holy Spirit to open your heart and mind to the ways in which you need to change.