Within and without
God's transformative love
As part of my Marriage and Family Therapy courses, we were required to take a year-long pass/no pass integration course. The classes felt like small group therapy sessions focused on different topics each week. One week I read my reflection out loud to my peers and the program director (PD) who led my section. Upon finishing, my PD looked at me lovingly and asked why I insisted on making myself so small when God’s goodness is attempting to push through. At the time, I was still freshly mourning my dad’s passing, and in the thick of a highly stressful situation concerning his business. My mother was also constantly fighting with me, my marriage was strained, and I was entering my third trimester of pregnancy with my fourth child. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders and was ready to topple over from morning sickness and fatigue, physical, mental, and emotional. All I wanted was to be small enough to hide - perhaps then everything would fade away because no one could find me.
I held those thoughts and looked down at my shoes.
As the year progressed, I recognized that, in addition to the situational desire to shrink, I wrestled with the tension between pride and humility. How do I humble myself before the Lord and others without self-deprecation? I possess a harsh inner voice. It’s haunting, and I find myself whispering the Jesus Prayer all day long to combat these thoughts about myself. I’m at that point where pride is an often-confessed sin, and I’ve grown tired of my self-righteousness. I am also weary of the constant self-deprecation.
So I went to my spiritual father. I remembered the question my PD asked and I repeated it to him.
“How do I fight pride and self-righteousness without making myself small? Surely that’s not what God desires for my life.”
“ . . . pride is spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love,
or contentment, or even common sense.”
C.S. Lewis
He responded simply, “Center your heart around God. When your heart is God-focused, then love cannot help but pour forth from you.”
I then dove headfirst into a sea of questions and hesitations. I stumbled throughout the conversation. The next day, I stood next to the icon of the Theotokos in my church’s narthex, watching my toddlers eat their snacks while trying to also focus on the liturgy. I was standing in the same spot as the previous night’s conversation when it dawned on me.
Before Mary became the Godbearer, her heart was God-centered. Is that why her obedience is so challenging to comprehend or seemingly unattainable at times? If her heart were self-centered, then she wouldn’t have been able to say yes to the Archangel Gabriel. She would have hesitated and asked for time to think about it. She would have poured it over with her friends and asked for their opinions. She would have journaled about it and tossed and turned at night. She would have consulted with Joseph.
While we are not privy to her response after saying yes to God, we do know that her soul magnified the Lord. Can a self-centered heart magnify anything other than itself?
I overcomplicate situations. I tend to think very seriously about every aspect of my life. I hold on tightly with both fists, trying to keep control. I recognized the other night that I have spent quite some time trying to prove myself to others, trying to make them happy, wearing different masks for different people. Yes, I was once a prodigal daughter, but look at me now. I am changed. I am different. I am not who you think I am. It worked for some, while others refused to let go of past versions of me. And then there are the ones who have painted their own version of me in permanent ink, so it doesn’t matter what I say or do.
C.S. Lewis wrote about pride and what it does to the soul. He compared it to spiritual cancer and explained that “it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or common sense.” I can attest that this is all true and that it creates a selfish version that, in retrospect, you wish you could erase from history. It also creates irrational fears and prevents you from truly and authentically thinking about the collective good because you are the focus.
Motherhood has helped to chip away at some of this selfishness. It has instilled within me a strong desire to serve others and take care of them. With four children, I am experiencing an array of personalities and specific needs that need tending. None of my children is the same, even with their similar characteristics. I am learning to respond to each of my children with the unique tenderness, attention, love, and discipline. It is hard but it’s changing my heart. I am still learning and I often make mistakes.
Marriage has also tended to this stone heart of mine. Marriage is self-sacrificial, sanctifying, and difficult. My husband and I have had to restructure our relationship several times throughout the last three years. We’ve been under strain, swimming through grief, and at the bottom of the barrel. I have learned, and am still learning, to respond to tribulation with my rational, prayerful being instead of a reactionary one. I’ve learned that, sometimes, tribulation indicates that one of us is hurting in some way. And because we are both broken people, we respond to our hurt by hurting the other. We are still growing and learning, and we often make mistakes.
All of this has prompted a desire to learn more about saints who were mothers—I’ve lately added Sts. Gorgonia, Dolagy, Rebecca, and Sophia to my list of intercessors.
The first step to humility is recognizing that you are proud. I have cared too much about what others think of me and have spent even more time focused on what I can do to change those opinions. I have also hyperfocused on what I should be doing instead of appreciating what I am doing through God’s grace. This Sunday’s sermon mentioned that God is willing to pour forth His grace on us if we ask Him. If we appreciate all that He has given us and do not waste that grace, then we can experience a remarkable transformation. God has poured an abundance of His grace on me—He saved me multiple times. I was one of the lost sheep, and for the longest time, it was challenging to accept that I am forgiven. My repentant tears brought me back to my Father. However, I also have to allow Him to fill my heart with His love. I can’t do that with pride standing in the way. Speaking poorly about myself and to myself is a form of that pride. Making myself small prevents God from working in me and through me. Lord, create in me a clean heart.
In the next few weeks, I’ll explore the lives of various saints and God’s transformative love within their lives. The saints I plan to explore allowed for God’s transformative love to take precedence in their lives, and they never turned back. I pray that through these character studies, God’s love shines through, transforming us all.
Are there any saints you’d like to include in this list?
How may I pray for you this week?