When We Become Frustrated With Ourselves Over the Pace of Our Progress

How many times have we thought that we were "over something," only to experience a situation where we realize that clearly, that is not the case. 

In those times, I stop and ask myself, 

"But did this affect you less or differently than it did before? Did you handle yourself less dysfunctionally than you did at an earlier time?" 

The answer, although many times "no" for me, can increasingly be "yes" as we do not lose heart and choose determinedly to press on, as Paul encourages us to do, for the prize (Philippians 3:12-16) .

To help us in this slow contest for spiritual maturity and integrity in Christ, we must maintain, in the corner of our eye, the successes and victories now finalized because they no longer haunt or trip us. 

For me, one completed victory is that, in October, it will be 20 years that I have been free of alcohol, thanks to Jesus coming into my life at that time. 

I have also made huge strides in coming to inner peace with people from the past and present: people who have no clue that I was working hard with God to be at peace with them. 

Indeed, make no mistake, I have left, as I always like to say, "a trail of busted stuff" (Dave Matthews) in my wake, mostly in the form of having had to pull away from my past in ways that were pretty flat-footed and abrupt at times. But coming off of an addiction, from a very poor launch pad of secular immaturity, it was the best I could do. Although Christ had indeed been the release, it would take years to learn and establish His new way of interacting and responding.

And so the times of regeneration began, what for me felt like an earthquake of realizations thundering under my feet.

In those years, I was--had to be--more concerned with the need to be free of alcohol and the reasons behind it and with setting up a healthy pattern for my kids and marriage, than worrying about the hurt feelings of others. 

Many folks never recover from an addiction because they are more concerned with conforming to the peer pressure of family and friends and the mentality "this is how it's always been" than with getting healthy.

And so the maturity we seek in Christ is not always easily won. 

His Spirit in us is not some Ouiji Board that leads us like automatons into righteousness, suddenly having instant grace to always say and do the very right and best thing. 

We fail, we step on toes, we embarrass ourselves, we take a stand that is good for us but that others find remote and uncaring. We can even be obstinate in our early, immature Biblical worldview.

Certainly, twenty years into this walk, I look back and see that, had I earned, through the constant wrestling between God and myself, the understandings about Christ, myself, and other people, earlier, I would have gone about things differently--more in line, of course, with how Christ would have conducted Himself.

But God in His all-encompassing wisdom, does not set things up that way. Which is why He is totally okay with our stumbling, fumbling attempts at transitioning from secular, me-centered life to one of faithful Christ-centeredness.

God knows our hearts, and thus, our motivations. 

I have, over the past twenty years, realized that my selfish and self-protective motivations were often mixed up with and confused with God's motivations. I've had to parse between those over time, discerning which motivations to be entirely mine, which to be His, and which a little bit of both. 

I have repented of the often vindictive milieu I made of it. 

But that's the road: isn't it.

That's the cost we don't even realize we are weighing at the time we surrender ourselves to Christ: this finding out, this really blinding oh-my-gosh I'm really not a very nice person quite a bit of the time, and then turning to God in shame and thanking Him that we don't want to be this person any more.

We no longer want to be hateful, prideful, jealous, insincere, transactional, petty. 

Mortified by the revelation of all of these things in us, we beg God to cleanse us, while at the same time knowing that the only requirement is agreeing that we will, humbly, go about it His way. 

And so, in God's transformative creation of us following our conversion, we might expect it initially to be quick, because after all, although whether one accepts that God created the earth in seven days or not, the point is, God could have. 

So then, He could transform us quickly as well, could He not?

But when I look at humans, who are not mountains and flowers and beasts of the field, fish of the water, the sun or the moon, I realize that we, being the most complex and relational ones, need more time. Not for God, but for us. 

We are not created at the snap of God's fingers. After nine months of gestation (a very long time in a mother's eyes), we are physically born. And then, as the Where the Wild Things Are story names it: the wild rumpus begins.

And what a wild rumpus it is!

This Christian walk is not something to be undertaken lightly, religiously, smugly or super-spiritually. 

It has scared the living daylights out of me as I experienced daylight as I've always know it disappearing, replaced by the often glaring light of Christ onto every nook and cranny of my being, leaving no stone unturned. 

And for that, once I stopped shaking in my boots, I began to be soberly and quietly grateful, because life finally was beginning to feel doable, stable, content: "normal" in a very healthy sense. 

Coming to and arriving at that place is difficult, but continuing on grows easier in the sense that we now implicitly trust it and even crave it. 

How impossible! Unless it is Christ doing it.

The prize that Paul so gladly gave his life for, while He was still alive--is that, over time, like Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay slowly producing one foot in front of the other as they exhaustedly neared the summit of Everest for the very first time, we, too, have arrived at where we are today at a haphazard pace.

But when we stop and take stock, and look back to where we've come from, we surprise ourselves with our progress in putting distance between who we are today and the shadowy stranger we've been moving farther and farther away from: that old self and all the baggage attached.

We shake our head, look down at our feet, and smile, thinking, 

"Shucks, isn't that something! I didn't even realize, really, how far Christ has brought me, how far we've come together. But He's getting me there. I'm so much closer than before. Yeah, I'm really almost there."

copyright Barb Harwood

“In all of life, there are sequential stages of growth and development…Each step is important and each one takes time. No step can be skipped. 

This is true in all phases of life, in all areas of development, whether it be learning to play the piano or communicate effectively with a working associate. It is true with individuals, with marriages, with families, and with organizations. 

We know and accept this fact or principle of process in the area of physical things, but to understand it in emotional areas, in human relations, and even in the area of personal character is less common and more difficult. And even if we understand it, to accept it and to live in harmony with it are even less common and more difficult.” The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, p. 36-37

“Gradual growth in grace, growth in knowledge, growth in faith, growth in love, growth in holiness, growth in humility, growth in spiritual-mindedness—all this I see clearly taught and urged in Scripture, and clearly exemplified in the lives of many of God’s saints. But sudden, instantaneous leaps from conversion to consecration I fail to see in the Bible.” J.C. Ryle

Conforming to the image of Christ is the refining process known as sanctification. 

In touch.org outlines it realistically:

“Salvation is the first stage.”

To serve, the second.

And the third stage?

“At some point, we notice something isn’t working. This is the start to Stage Three: frustrated inadequacy….

This unpleasant but necessary part of the journey can last varying amounts of time. Without it, we’d undoubtedly experience self-sufficiency and pride. But we should recognize this difficult phase as beautiful because it leads us into the best part of our spiritual lives: total dependency upon Jesus as Lord of our life. And we will be fulfilling our ultimate goal: becoming a reflection of Christ.

Sadly, many Christians don’t reach a point of complete reliance on the Lord. Pride, discouragement and distraction can ruin focus and perseverance. Paul reminds us to fix our eyes on the goal of maturity in Christ (Phil. 3:14). Learning to die to self is painful, but ironically, it’s the only true way to live.”