Breaking Free from Shame

My house is in a state of disaster 80% or more of the time. That other 20% is when my mom is visiting or someone is coming over or I have a rare burst of cleaning energy. And please understand me: when I say disaster, I mean disaster. Solidified, stinky milk in sippy cups hiding under the couch (or in plain sight) disaster. Can’t walk across the room without doing a dance of tripping, dodging and hopping while still managing to step on sharp cornered blocks and legos disaster. I have bought the same thing more than once because I can’t find the original somewhere in my house disaster.

[One day I thought Instagram and Facebook deserved some realness from me. Play a game of I Spy with this picture… can you find the black dog/dirty Thomas the Train underwear/Radio Flyer Bike/Multiple empty fast food cups?]

And I’ve felt a great sense of shame over my inadequacies as a housekeeper. You see, I know how to clean. I am a very skilled organizer. I just don’t always feel like doing it. And I’ve carried this truth deep in my heart and allowed it to hold me prisoner. I let it stop me from inviting friends over because it meant I’d have to clean. And most likely, life would somehow become crazy right before a playdate was scheduled and I wouldn’t be able to get things presentable fast enough. Or there would be so much to do that actually starting was too daunting. So I stayed home by myself, sitting in the craziness and denying the inner hostess in me the opportunity to come out.

And then, this past spring, a new friend (as in we’d talked a few time at our mom’s group and she’d ridden in my equally messy car once) needed a place to hang out between our group and her son’s doctor’s appointment. Thanks to a weekend of painting, my house was even worse than normal. Furniture was pushed in random places, you couldn’t see my kitchen counters, table, or even the couch because that’s where we threw everything that had been on the floor. We had basically decided to ignore the idea of cleaning up after ourselves in order to get as much painting done as possible. But I knew I needed to invite her over. So I offered my house and said I’d do dishes and we could visit.

And you know what? She didn’t judge me. She saw the reality of my house, but she accepted me as her friend anyways. And I think that experience of me being truly vulnerable about a very ugly side of myself jump started our friendship. It took us to a place of honesty and realness very quickly. And even more than that, setting aside my shame and refusing to allow it to hold me prisoner freed me. It freed me in other relationships (several friends have visited with me while I washed dishes and cleaned my kitchen since). It freed me to be honest about myself with others and, in turn, help them take power over their own shame. And it freed me to be a better housekeeper. My house is still a disaster a lot of the time, but I am not so intimidated by it that I can’t start cleaning.

Shame shows up in our lives for so many different reasons. And I’m sure it would be easy to put a scale on actions/sins/facts about ourselves and try to place some as worse than others. But the truth is: shame, regardless of what causes it, affects us powerfully. It holds us captive and keeps us from allowing God to change us and use us. It stops us from being able to fully embrace the truth that God loves us no matter what—that it was while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).



I love Lamentations 3:21-23. The author shares about how he can’t forget the bad that has happened in his life and, because of it, his soul is downcast. But then, “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” No matter how many times I do something that fills me with shame. No matter how much ugliness is in my soul. No matter how many times I try to convince myself God’s love can’t cover everything that’s in me. His compassions—His mercies—are new every morning. He is faithful to cover us anew, to free us from our shame and then, when we mess up again or allow it to hold us captive once more, we can have hope. Because His compassions will never fail. They are new every morning.

Search Me

Clearly, I haven’t written here in quite a while. I haven’t been lacking inspiration. There have been so many times where I’ve thought through an entire post, organized the words in my mind, and then talked myself out of actually writing and posting them. I felt like I lacked the authority to share my thoughts. Or the consistency in my own Bible study to speak about it. Or… oh how confidence can lack.

 

Today I went to a mom’s group at a church in my town. I visited there almost a year ago when my mom was invited to speak, and intended to go regularly—I wanted to get to know moms in my area since all my friends live in a town a half hour away. But then morning sickness made things difficult, followed by summer, followed by having the morning-sickness-causing baby, followed by ______. But today I had motivation: my senior pastor’s wife was the guest speaker. And I adore her. How could I miss it?

 

Her topic was on having self esteem as moms and teaching our children to have good self esteem. There were so many beautiful points she made, and I want to write about them because I don’t want to forget them. And hey, maybe someone out there in blogland would find the words precious as well.

 

She shared about how we as women and moms can so easily get caught up in a cycle of guilt, fear and condemnation. We have thoughts we wish we didn’t, say words we wish we could take back, and allow ourselves to hear the message that we are less than God created us to be. As a mom of four young children she found her time in the Word so limited—five minutes here and there—but those minutes were precious and God used them greatly. But she could guarantee that if she spent that five minutes there would be attacking thoughts that she should have spent more. And if she happened to get an hour while at a retreat, she’d be attacked with the thought of why not two hours?

 

I could relate. I have had to drastically change my approach to my quiet times since having my children. I feel guilty for not pouring out praises and thoughts to the Lord over page after page in my prayer journal. I look critically at the fact that the length of scripture I read through each day is so brief. I ignore the way God uses that brief time to still teach me, convict me, challenge me, encourage me. And when I miss a day, that guilt paralyzes my ability to open my Bible the next day.

 

But then, today, I was told that God does not condemn me for that missed or limited time. He desires relationship with me. He delights in the time we spend together. He wants me to want to come to Him. The condemnation I feel does not come from Him. He is a loving, compassionate Father who desires time with His child. He wants our time to be motivated by desire to learn, not guilt over falling short.

 

Going into this morning I didn’t even realize how much I struggle with condemnation. Guilt and fear—sure, those are easy to see in my life. Condemnation? I would have thought that I too easily excuse my problems to struggle with that. But oh how much deeper the issue runs! I try to battle the condemnation all on my own by making up excuses and justifications rather than letting God speak to my weary soul. I am now remembering that He has searched me and He knows me. When I am steady and consistent in my quiet times, shining His light to those I meet and marveling at His glory at every turn—He’s with me. But He’s also with me when I am at my lowest—screaming at the dog, tripping over my toy-littered living room and trying to dig the least filthy sippy cup out of my dirty dish filled sink, as my dusty Bible asks for my attention. He made me. He has searched me and He knows me—the deepest part me that even my husband and mom don’t see. He knows the struggles, the fears, the hurts, and the guilt that plague my mind. And through all of that, He wants to pour out His love on me.

 

 

I’m going to daily use His Word to fight back against the condemnation and stop letting it paralyze my time with Him, what I achieve in my home and what I share here on the blog. I’m going to dwell on Psalm 139:23-34 because it represents how I need to define myself and my time. I’m going to write it in places throughout my home and keep it at the forefront of my mind: Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.