Saying it don't make it so

          I am still grieving over the news of yet another high profile father who made the decision to betray his family for the promise of something new and exciting.  Who it is does not matter since the story and the devastation are the same.  

          The first time I heard of a man who decided to leave his family, I was 5.  His daughter was my friend.  Their family was dear to ours.  I remember my mother in tears, a sick anger in my stomach, and a sadness that entered my playmate’s eyes and never left. 

At that time my brain bounced off the idea of a father who would do that to his wife and child.   It was one of those incomprehensible realities that rattled around in my brain for weeks looking for either acceptance or explanation. 

It never found either, and is now up there keeping company with hundreds of its restless and equally inexplicable friends.

Since then I have had a front row seat to a number of similar immolations.  What has struck me is that they are all essentially the same story. 
  

Novelty trumps comfortable (or uncomfortable) familiarity.   

A glance leads to a flirtation which leads to affection which leads to deception which leads to the sacrifice of our character and integrity, and the destruction of the hearts we swore to love and protect.

 I marvel at what easy targets we make! Easy, easy, easy!

And this is not the only way we willingly destroy ourselves.

There is, of course, more than one reason for this phenomenon, but I wonder if part of it rests in our aptitude at lying to ourselves.

  Have you ever heard little voice in your head try justify an action by saying "Go ahead! You deserve to be happy" or "None of this is your fault" or "You just can't help yourself" or "You're not hurting anybody" or "If it feels this good then how can it be wrong?"

Sometimes the voice is backed up by a shimmering chorus line of Disney Princesses or _________ (fill in the blank with your favorite pop culture icons) urging you to "follow your heart".  

Sometimes there are fireworks.

And floating down on angel wings for the final verse...Oprah and Deepak Chopra!  Singing bass and strumming sitars in a cloud of incense.  

Oooh, tempting!  Look at the nice cheerleaders, all sparkly and affirming!  They smell like baby lotion!  And bubble gum!  And Ariel is handing out kittens!

Trust me when I say that, despite appearances, your best bet in this situation is to quickly locate the smarmy little voice, throw it down, and sit on it until it stops moving.  Chances are it was trying to lead you into the "Life Dismemberment in Three Easy Steps" program.  (Very popular, despite being painful, embarrassing, and often irreversible.)

So why do we do it?  Lying to others makes sense on a purely selfish level, but what is the advantage in lying to oneself?

It doesn’t alter whatever part of reality you are dissatisfied with.  

I can tell myself all day that I have a brilliant soprano voice, but the truth is that I don’t, and my self-deception doesn’t fool anyone else either. 

If I tell myself that I am an excellent employee, but I never show up on time and I only finish half of my work, then my boss is going to know better, and I’m a liar.  

I can say that I am a good wife, but if I am leaving the door open to flirtation or fantasy, I’m a liar.

If I neglect my children, abuse alcohol and drugs, and drag them into unsafe living conditions, I am not a good mom.  I’m a liar.

If I am indulging in pornography, then I am not a faithful husband.  I’m a liar.

Being good at video games does not make me brave.  

Having 937 Facebook friends does not make me friendly.

Giving money to a charity does not make me generous.

Going to church three times a week does not make me a Christian.

Having good intentions does not mean that I have actually accomplished anything. Nor does it excuse any pain I might inadvertently inflict on the recipients of my brilliant ideas.  (Note to Washington politicians.)

But it is so easy to tell ourselves otherwise!  It's the Maury Povich phenomenon, wherein a person has the ability to engage in any number of betrayals, manipulations, lies and cover-ups, and then stand in front of God and man and proclaim through a river of self righteous tears and mascara,  "But I'm a Good Person!"

And believe it. 

Never mind that the entire audience is booing at them and everyone they have ever known is lining up for a chance to clock them with a chair.  Never mind the pile of bodies at their feet.  Never mind the commandments they have chewed up and spit out.  

"I'm a good person!" is the permission slip we humans write for ourselves to do...anything we want.  

 We are first in line to give ourselves a pass, to manipulate the facts to our advantage, to believe our own spin--and to surround ourselves with people who will validate our choices, even as they destroy our lives.  

Judging by the content of some of my recent blogs, I probably already qualify as the "World's Most Discouraging Life Coach", so I will take the liberty to recommend a book here for anyone interested in having their hair blown back--and I mean blown back like Wile E. Coyote holding a stick of dynamite, not ruffled a la The Princess Bride.

The book is called Desperately Wicked by Patrick Downey.  Using evidence from the Bible, and observations from famous Greek tragedies and philosophers, both ancient and modern, he makes a case that the human heart has an insatiable desire to be seen as “good”.  

This creates a passion for self-justification which when combined with our hunger to “know, to be known, and to possess”, results in a creature that is, frankly, a little dangerous to itself and to others...

...until it is tamed and tempered by the true object of its desire—God, as He really exists, as He is revealed in his Word, with all the power He possesses to take our hungry and haunted hearts and make them new and whole—and truly GOOD.   

But sadly, even then they are still divided.  And this is what I want to keep in mind when I see men fall around me and when I hear my own lying voice at the back of my head.  

We studied Judges at Bible Study last night.  A litany of faithfulness, unfaithfulness, and judgement.  The universal story of mankind.  

We have desperate hearts.  They love and hate in the same breath.  They nurture and protect and then turn around and despise and betray.

Galatians 5:17 says, "For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do."



Paul laments in Romans 7:15 , "For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate."



Jeremiah the prophet states, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" (17:9)


Jamey mentioned last night that the best way to deal with the tragedy of a moral train-wreck is to hold up a mirror instead of a magnifying glass, and I think that is excellent, Biblical advice.  

Galatians 6:1-3 says, "Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself.…"

The sports team which best knows its weaknesses will better know how to play to its strengths.  In the same way, the person who sees himself rightly will best be able to resist the pitfalls of pride.

A grateful acceptance of the loving accountability available to us in our brothers and sisters would help us resist the temptation to keep crowning ourselves "king of the world" because in the economy of grace, we are strongest when we humbly acknowledge our inherent weaknesses.  (2 Corinthians 12:10)
 
I'm not suggesting that the Christian life should consist of 80 years of sour-faced self flagellation, but I think that a simple, sober contemplation of the frailty of our condition now and then would go a long way toward keeping our toes on the trail.  

And when you see the brother stuck head-first in the bramble patch?  Offer a humble hand and wrap yourself in prayer, my friend.  

There, but for the grace of God...