Even if you're staring at someone you trust with all your heart and you ask them for it, it's never fun to be told that something about you needs to change. (Perfect as we all are.) Unless you're just a glutton for misery, which some people actually are, or find your identity in being "not good enough." But no, even then, it's not happy.
Offense. It is... offensive. It likes "to irritate, annoy, or anger; cause resentful displeasure in" (good ol' dictionary.com). One of the most helpful things I've learned over the last 9 years has been that Yahweh is not above offending me. Sometimes that's the best way to get me to take a look at what needs to be changed. And every time he does it, whether it's straight from Him or through a situation with other people, He does it with an intent on leading me to a greater understanding, a greater glory. He's always trying to show me, "Hey, look. Here's something you believe so fervently, but what if it's not quite right? Would you be wiling to reconsider?" Or, "This thing that matters so much to you has started to matter too much to you. Would you be willing to let it go?" Those things that we cherish are the ones we cling to. And sometimes it's hard to change our minds, our paradigms, our emotional responses. So many of us have lots of these things tied up into our very identities, our very structure of who we think we are.
That's why in my little "About Me" section on this blog, I've written that there are a lot of roles I play but that at the end of the day, I am and always will be nothing less than a daughter of God on assignment. That way, I don't have to have my self-worth or sense of identity tied up in being a worship leader or a Vermonter or a Texan or a conservative or a brunette or whatever other strange things might creep into my perception of what makes me "me." If God told me today to stop leading worship, it would not destroy my self-worth. As it is, He actually did tell me that at the beginning of this pregnancy. About two days into the euphoric thrill of realizing we had another baby on the way, I was folding laundry and suddenly thought of worship at our church, and I heard Him as plain as day say, "You're not going back." That meant that once I got far enough along to take time off for the delivery, I wouldn't be returning as the worship leader. That will no longer be my assignment. And while it is truly bittersweet, my identity is not wrapped up in the task I'm performing. It's in the One who gives me the task. He's got plenty more in store for me, to say the least!
Finding out who we are. That is a big deal. It was a big struggle for me in my earlier years, and in my own experience, it seems that so much of that struggle for anyone is that we are learning how to trust and whom to trust. If a hateful, belligerent bully offends me, I bow up and might very well toss whatever he had to say. If my sister Deborah says it, I listen. Because I trust her. The poet Lord Byron had issues galore, but he was a great poet and said something I really like: "In solitude...we are least alone." Ah yes, that's where you hear all the inner voices and the solid, deeper stuff starts to surface. And one thing that makes me really hurt for someone is when I see that they are struggling with deep issues and sadness, jadedness and deep dissatisfaction, but they refuse to look it in the eye and address it. They would rather make their lives so noisy and busy than get quiet and listen to the deep inner voice that is crying out for help but that will absolutely lead to pain and offense on the way to Truth and healing. The only way to have success in that vulnerable place is to know that you can trust. Nobody wants to go there if they can't trust the others in there with them.
But if you can trust anyone, you can trust God. Sound a little trite, cursory, religious? Nevertheless, it is the TRUTH. And He always has a sent one somewhere close by that can be found if prayerfully sought out. And He is all about helping us all know what's real, what's true, who He is, and therefore who we are. True identity. Going back to the garden. Creating man to tend to the earth and walk and talk with Him.
What He will not do is take away the offense. But what He will show you about the offense is that whatever that painful thing is, whatever that soft spot is that doesn't like to be touched, it is not truly who we are. We may have received it for so long or courted it for so long or become so familiar with it that we are scared to part with it even though it's hurting us, that we think we cannot be separated from it and survive. Be it a long held belief, or a way of reacting to people or life, or a habit, sometimes the only way for us to get past it is to face the offense of being told it's got to go. And part of the healing balm that comes with that edict is the reality that that thing is not a legal part of us, not what He had in mind for us, and is an invader He's trying to rout out for our benefit.
If we know that it's for our best, if we know that God sees a picture bigger than what we see, what is it about us that would rather hold on to it than go through the edginess of change and come out in a greater glory? We are creatures of comfort after all. Or maybe sometimes we're just too proud.
Regardless, though, what is our best solution? To embrace offense. We ought never take it personally, because if it's something that must go, it's something God's pointing out as "It never was you, anyway, and I'm removing it, if you'll let me, so that you can be free of it and free to move on to a new level of revelation."
If He's trying to work on your behalf, don't stand in His way! Let Him. If it hurts, and it usually does, do what I do: think of it as a massage on really sore muscles. :D
