The Child in the Shadow

I found my wounded self, emerging like a haunted shadow from the basement. My arrogant, religious self was too sick to go on. When I heard the cries of a child, I felt compelled to go unlock the basement door. There I was, looking at my younger self like Bruce Willis’s character in the movie “The Kid”.

I felt a tenderness and compassion toward him. I also thought he was the missing piece to my ongoing, prideful goal of Christian stardom. Little did I know, he would expose my deception after many hours of conversation. The hardest part was seeing my pride in it all. Then I realized that pride is probably the darkest and most dangerous of all deceptions in my life and in everyone else’s life. It keeps us alone, trying to fake our way through and perpetuates our self-deception. And we don’t even know we are doing it half the time.

Practically speaking, I did this work by joining a group. In a guided setting, I walked with my younger self through every stage of my life. From the circumstances surrounding my conception and birth all the way to my present stage of adulthood. And I shared everything in the safety of my trusted group, some of whom had done this before. In reality, this is too hard and painful to walk through alone.

As a child and young person growing up, so many difficult things happen to you. Without a good ally, someone who’s safe, healthy, wise, and mature you usually don’t know how to process the difficult and often traumatic events happening to you and around you. For me, I didn’t know how to reach out for help or risk telling a trustworthy person my secrets. You sort of survive, do the best you can with the pain and confusion, and just keep going. You don’t realize that you’re developing beliefs about yourself and about life that are often lies that become part of your identity and belief system moving forward. Then you wonder why growth isn’t happening in certain areas.

If you could go back in time and revisit these moments, even the darkest and most painful ones, would you do it? Would you go back and tell yourself the truth about what happened and correct any lies and false beliefs you developed in those moments? In the worst moments of your life? Would you speak truth, life, and affirmations to encourage yourself, knowing that somehow bringing truth into your past will bring peace and resolution into your present?

Would you go back and tell yourself the truth about what happened and correct any lies and false beliefs you developed in those moments?

I chose to do so. Figuratively speaking, I found my younger self locked away in a basement all alone. Hearing him out was very painful because he is an integral part of me whether I choose to acknowledge him or not. I had created an identity that suppressed his precious life because I thought he wasn’t good enough for people, not good enough for God, and not good enough for anyone else. Therefore, he wasn’t good enough for me. So I locked him away and tried to go and be someone else that seemed more acceptable.

The talks went well. They were terribly painful. When he cried, I cried. When he hurt, I hurt. He had lots of questions. We learned to work together to bring closure to those painful memories. The group I was in prayed for and witnessed our conversations and helped to identify lies I had believed that I needed to work through with my younger self. I needed their feedback to see things that I would not have seen by myself.

Those old deceptions were often my protections. They were painful false beliefs, but at least I was used to them.

It’s tough and exhausting doing this kind of work, but well worth it. Like clearing away a lifetime of debris and weight. And bringing dark, hidden secrets to the light for the first time. Oftentimes shame lives behind the fear of being exposed. But when I let the light in to see my shameful places, shame had to leave when I replaced it with heartfelt affirmations, grace, and mercy. I found new freedom. In large part due to my group’s support and encouragement.

There were many hard fault victories. As the child healed, I healed. I’m not used to this kind of freedom. It’s bewildering because many of my old belief systems and false identities are falling away. Those old deceptions were often my protections. They were painful false beliefs, but at least I was used to them. And in these moments moving forward I ask God who am I really? And what do you want me to do now?

Those are hard questions for someone who used to think I had it all figure out for the most part. But I know God is closer than ever before. He’s hard to see when I’m hiding behind the smokescreen of my own false beliefs and fantasies.

Would you go back and revisit yourself in all stages of your life if you could? Why or why not?

Perfectionism & Brokenness Reunite

My anger towards God revealed my hidden, wounded self. He was hidden behind the performing perfectionist who can never be good enough.

“As we come to grips with our own selfishness and stupidity, we make friends with the impostor and accept that we are impoverished and broken and realize that, if we were not, we would be God. The art of gentleness toward ourselves leads to being gentle with others — and is a natural prerequisite for our presence to God in prayer.”
Brennan Manning, “Abba’s Child”

Becoming a “Great” Christian

I dealt with my own weaknesses and inadequacies by creating an ideal image of myself. This would be the person I throw all of my energy into becoming. As a young athlete, I made it my goal to be a great basketball player. I poured hours of my life into developing skills and watching Michael Jordan. My approach to God was similar. I wanted to be a “great” Christian. My idea of this person I wanted to be did not always line up with Jesus’ definition of being great. Jesus calls for humility, putting others first, being a servant, and living sacrificially. My idea was to be all of those things and more with a lot of selfish motives mixed in.

From my perspective, the stars of the Christian game were pastors, speakers, musicians, and anyone who was on stage and could speak well into a microphone. They were the Christians who had “arrived” at the top. People admired them, talked about them, repeated what they said, bought their books and t-shirts, and tried to be like them. So, I figured that in order to be a great Christian, I needed to become one of them.

To be fair, many of these people are truly admirable, gifted leaders whom God has entrusted with a platform. As a kid, I didn’t realize that behind the scenes these people are regular human beings who have their own struggles. Sometimes they are living in terrible darkness that no one knows about. It was a different era before we knew phrases such as “mega-church” and “celebrity Christians”.

Brennan Manning – Author of The Ragamuffin Gospel and Abba’s Child

For example, the guy I quoted above, Brennan Manning was an incredibly gifted Christian writer and speaker who was in and out of treatment centers for alcoholism his entire life. His memoir, “All Is Grace“, was written on his deathbed and really shocked me at the time. I could easily accept that he “used to be an alcoholic”. You know, before he met Jesus. I assumed Jesus fixed him of course and he became a great Christian. In reality, Jesus walked with him in and out of treatment centers his whole life. These experiences helped him find the words that are so meaningful.

These days it’s rather common that a Christian leader is in the news for some kind of moral failing. I am grieved, but no longer shocked. Of course they are human. Of course they are broken. We’re all vulnerable, and we all need a healthy support system. No one has ever crossed the magic line into the realm of Christian perfection, nor will they.

Stumbling Home

From my early assumptions and expectations, I formed this idea of what a great Christian should be. What I ended up building as a result was quite a self-righteous, prideful, judgmental, critical, religious, angry and confused person. This is the fruit of someone who tries to make the outside look great while neglecting their internal brokenness. I don’t know that these qualities were/are completely obvious to those around me. But I’m sure they have been sensed in some way. Again, these attributes were the result of a constructed self that I presented to the world while desperately trying to hide the parts of me that are weak and wounded. This construction I find in myself continues to be replicated today just as it has throughout history. The hard part is, it’s almost impossible to help a self-righteous person see his own brokenness. Jesus spoke his harshest words for self-righteous people like me. Even so, he spoke out of love because he longs for hardened religious people to come out of hiding.

I could only fool myself for so long. And everything I wanted to be, I could not live up to. I tried to follow the Bible and do what everyone said I needed to do. It’s impossible. I have too many weaknesses, and my personal battles with anxiety and shame kept me from performing well. Thus, erupting into my current writing out of exhaustion and frustration. I have played the game as far as I could and failed. In the severe mercy of God, I find myself stumbling home. Jesus is responds most readily with great compassionate towards people who know they are broken like me.

The Divided Self Re-United

The shadowy, wounded self emerges. There he is, revealed in the light. Suspiciously I watch as he is embraced by the Father.

The change begins to invade my entire being. Like a virus slowly replicating. I find myself reintegrating. One self, the perfectionist performer. The other self, the shameful failure. A new sense of wholeness comes over me.

Bringing the wounded and rejected self into the light is a kind of reunion. Now that I see you, I know who you are, and I know what I have done. You are me. I am learning to see you in the light of Jesus’ love. Without Jesus, I don’t know that I could love you or have the courage to go on this journey to find you.

In the light of his acceptance and forgiveness, I find the gentleness and grace to accept and forgive you. For being weak, broken. For having been born with the human condition. My high pressure career as a super Christian is over. What a relief to be given permission to be ordinary. Of course, no one is truly “ordinary”.

Here is a kind of beautiful and difficult reunion. My perfectionist, critical, judgmental self looks upon my imperfect, wounded, rejected self with a new kind of compassion. Along with compassion I am overcome with wonder and awe. This person is beautiful in his weakness. For in his weakness, there is a tender strength that I never appreciated before.

My formerly weak and rejected self looks back at the perfectionist performer who is critical and judgmental. I am leery of this ruthless performer I have created. Yet there is compassion growing for this person as well. This person tried to protect me and make life work for me. I have to learn to forgive him for being so hard on me.

The one self rejected. The other self manufactured in order to survive. They are both me. Both of them are walking into the light together. The work of reintegrating them is going to be a process. The challenges and pressures of life remain. And there are new challenges. I am used to living in my own deception. Coming into the light is a relief, and yet seeing myself more completely is rather shocking. Truth has set me free. With freedom comes new responsibility to continue growing. With the freedom of sobriety comes a process of recovery.

“When we are under the law- in our natural state- we feel that God is the enemy and that we get what we deserve. We naturally try to ‘earn’ life. We try to do whatever we think will get God to like us or whatever we think will solve our day-to-day problems. Thus, we are trying to ‘save ourselves’. We try to get God to not be mad, and we try by our own efforts to grow and resolve our issues. Yet (New Testament Apostle) Paul says that this way of living is the exact opposite of living according to faith and grace and that if we choose that law, we end up living out the law in real life. This is not just theology; it is exactly how people end up living out their real-life problems until they grasp the reality of grace.”
“How People Grow” by Dr John Townsend and Dr Henry Cloud

Thankfully, God is less of a haunting, critical presence and more of a friend who is also the King. His goodness and grace are the motivators that replace my fearful perceptions that used to drive me. It is time to learn what grace means for those of us who are in recovery.

Reader Questions: Feel free to respond to one or more of these in the comments section below. I look forward to any discussions.

What kind of identity have you created in order to deal with life and make yourself more presentable to the world around you?
What does the word grace mean to you?

“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.””
Romans 8:15

Perfectionism, Shame, and Shadow Boxing

My anger towards God recently surfaced. I started writing out of this experience.

I never saw my shadow ’till I saw the light
And now I need more light to drown it out
I cannot bear that this should continue
Nor can I bear that it should stop
Massivivid, “Drop” (Song lyrics)

Shame and Perfectionism Take Hold

The demands I place on myself are too much. Perfectionism tells me that no matter what I do, it’s never good enough. As a result, shame tells me there is something fundamentally wrong with me. When I agree, I project those beliefs onto God. He is constantly judging me. So I try to perform better to combat my own shame. And I project those beliefs onto people. They are constantly judging me. People, I can get away from temporarily. Myself, I cannot. God, I cannot.

I try to improve myself to combat my own shame. However irrational it sounds, somewhere along the way I have believed the lie that I must do the impossible in order to be acceptable: be perfect.

What takes over is a generalized and pervasive kind of performance anxiety. My behavior is dictated by my own perceptions of external influences. If I don’t measure up, God will hurt me. If I don’t measure up, people will hurt me. My own experience seems to confirm these ideas. Because it is impossible to meet my own and everyone else’s wants, needs, and expectations, I find myself being hard on myself when I fail. Why? Because I wonder what is wrong with me. I am ashamed of myself, I am afraid, and I don’t know how to fix my imperfections so that I am no longer afraid.

Shadow Boxing

In my developmental years, I dealt with this by creating a persona in order to play the role I had to fulfill. This isn’t my real self. He is someone I developed in order to successfully present myself to the world and to God. Everyone reaches this stage and to some degree creates their own character to deal with the challenges of life. Similar to creating a character in a video game, we choose our looks, weapons, and skills in order to create an identity that will survive and hopefully win. We intuitively know we are imperfect and that someone outside of ourselves will probably judge us and hurt us as soon as they find out. Every character we create is vulnerable.

One approach is to make myself acceptable to everyone as far as I am able. Another approach that is gaining traction in popular culture is to put myself out there and try to make everyone accept me as I am. Neither approach deals with the fundamental problem of a broken and wounded self. This is the self we encountered early in life when we began to experience disappointment and shame.

“It (self-hatred) begins by accepting the special value of the particular self called me; then, wounded in its pride to find that such a darling object should be so disappointing, it seeks revenge, first upon that self, then on all.”
C.S. Lewis, “Two Ways with the Self” (From the C.S. Lewis compilation book, “God in the Dock”)

The broken self gets dealt with in a number of ways, most of them ineffective at best and destructive at worst. For me, I put him in the background while I developed a more presentable person who, once perfected, will become successful and thrive in all areas where I am weak and enhance my strengths. It seemed like a worthwhile project at the time. Fake it ’til I make it? Sure, but what happens to the wounded self once I make it? How do I cope with the pressures of success? How do I cope with inevitable moments of failure? What do I do with that underlying fear that someday my weakness will surface and sabotage everything I have worked for?

Christian Disillusionment

Early in my childhood I became a Christian. With all of my normal human baggage I entered into a relationship with God through faith in Christ Jesus. I am grateful for that and still believe wholeheartedly. What needs to be unpacked is the way I have tried to use God in order to work on my pet project and enhance my public image. I wanted to not only be a good Christian, but I wanted to be good at Christianity in the same way I was good at basketball when I was younger. With lots of practice and focus, I would really do this well and gain some notoriety and favor from God and people. If I put in the work, God would enhance my ego, eliminate my weaknesses and really make me glow. Great plan!

And, with a little grooming from my church tradition, hyped up Christian youth camps, and the unique influence of Christian culture in the 90’s, I chose to believe that God would come through and make me something quite special. The result would finally be a comfortable life with enough money and acclaim to help me feel good about myself. These ideas became the “carrot on a stick” that I would chase for a long time. Again, my own ego and distorted perceptions are also responsible for misinterpreting my church experience.

I understand why people say Christianity doesn’t work for them. It doesn’t “work” for me either. What I mean is, whatever assumptions and expectations I had of myself and of God when I started this have not come to fruition quite the way I wanted. I couldn’t manipulate God or work the process to my selfish advantage. My Christianity was driven by self-centered motivations. I pursued a relationship with God with my own agenda, which really limits meaningful intimacy with God. Now, the difficult part is dealing with spiritual disillusionment and disorientation.

“The wrong asceticism torments the self: the right kind kills the selfness.”
C.S. Lewis, “Two Ways with the Self” (From the C.S. Lewis compilation book, “God in the Dock”)

The process of disillusionment over the years has been terribly painful. However, the more recent experience of seeing him work in me is rather surprising. It is still painful, but in a good way. The pursuit of a right relationship with God is now moving towards realizing what he wants from me, which takes priority over what I want from him. It is a kind of death to the self-centered orientation of my life. This movement actually helps me find compassion and healing towards my emerging shadow. Like the prodigal son, the wounded, angry, and rejected self is coming home to his loving heavenly Father.

“So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.”
Luke 15:20