For a very
long time, I thought if only I could be the "very best" me, the
person God created me to be, life would be pleasant and
profitable, with much success in family life, career, finances. In the words of
Sally Fields, (good) people would "really, really like me."
It is no small matter to realize that such is not the case at all, that being the person God created me to be carries a cost, often in the loss of relationships or damaged esteem.
This conclusion is as unwelcome as it is unassailable.
Certainly, I knew of Jesus' admonition to take up my cross and follow Him, but in my little Protestant head that meant losing the bad things, habits and people, like those who used illegal drugs or were vulgar.
But the reality is altogether different. First, the word “bad” is evolving. But more importantly, being the “Christian” me causes the loss of good things, like friendships from people who just happen to worship on Saturdays; or some who find it acceptable to use every invective to describe President Obama (except the "n" or the "f" words).
Consider that the former think I will burn in hell because of Christmas celebrations. And the latter are, well, scary. In both cases, fundamental disagreements preclude friendship. Though these are Christians whose faith is evident, we practice mutual judgment and exclusion, replacing fellowship by politeness or quiet snickering.
As another example, God created in me a ferocious Haitian who feels the need to defend her country against anyone, especially non-Haitians, who would berate it. This practice has yielded no obvious benefit, and at least one serious harm (the loss of an INGO job because of my relentless focus on Haiti. "Your every word is Haiti, Haiti, Haiti," said the director, "this makes [the organization] unhappy").
It is no small matter to realize that such is not the case at all, that being the person God created me to be carries a cost, often in the loss of relationships or damaged esteem.
This conclusion is as unwelcome as it is unassailable.
Certainly, I knew of Jesus' admonition to take up my cross and follow Him, but in my little Protestant head that meant losing the bad things, habits and people, like those who used illegal drugs or were vulgar.
But the reality is altogether different. First, the word “bad” is evolving. But more importantly, being the “Christian” me causes the loss of good things, like friendships from people who just happen to worship on Saturdays; or some who find it acceptable to use every invective to describe President Obama (except the "n" or the "f" words).
Consider that the former think I will burn in hell because of Christmas celebrations. And the latter are, well, scary. In both cases, fundamental disagreements preclude friendship. Though these are Christians whose faith is evident, we practice mutual judgment and exclusion, replacing fellowship by politeness or quiet snickering.
As another example, God created in me a ferocious Haitian who feels the need to defend her country against anyone, especially non-Haitians, who would berate it. This practice has yielded no obvious benefit, and at least one serious harm (the loss of an INGO job because of my relentless focus on Haiti. "Your every word is Haiti, Haiti, Haiti," said the director, "this makes [the organization] unhappy").
Yet, I
continue to do so, at times, to applause; at times, to displeasure and risk,
but always with peace.
So to the question of yielding to the persistent divine self, I answer yes. That self is part of God’s constellation-glory. Without it, there would be one less star in the galaxy. And stars outshine all foreclosed relationships, job losses or party invitations un-sent.
So to the question of yielding to the persistent divine self, I answer yes. That self is part of God’s constellation-glory. Without it, there would be one less star in the galaxy. And stars outshine all foreclosed relationships, job losses or party invitations un-sent.
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