Can't

  “Jesus shouted to the crowds, “If you trust me, you are trusting not only me, but also God who sent me. For when you see me, you are seeing the one who sent me.”” John 12:44-45

 

  “Every human life is a reflection of divinity, and every act of injustice mars and defaces the image of God in man.” Martin Luther King

 

  “Always see the best in people.” Everywhere

 

  The teaching part of our church service begins with quotes from a wide variety of sources, from Bob Marley to Jesuit monks to Greek philosophers. The Martin Luther King quote was shared a few Sunday’s ago.  The one about seeing the best in people appeared on FB shortly after I completed today’s painting of rose coloured glasses and ear plugs.

  It didn’t sit well, the quote about seeing the best in others.

  My mother-in-law phoned a couple months before my ex confessed to his affair. She told me he was having an affair. I leapt to his defense, chastising her for thinking so poorly of her son that she believed he would do such a thing. It’s not something I have shared very often…come to think about it, I doubt this was even shared with my therapist. It’s embarrassing, having vocalized my blind (see the best in people) trust for a man who was, in the end, utterly un-trustworthy.

  It’s not that I wouldn’t believe my mother-in-law, it’s that I couldn’t. The rose coloured glasses were permanently affixed. I couldn’t face the fact my reality was a life of pretend-zies and lies. Only in hearing it directly from him did my constructed reality come crashing down into a gazillion pieces.

  That’s when I thought driving head on into a truck was a good idea. Ironically, the only thing that stopped me was the idea that the trucker would have been haunted by my death. God used my ingrained training of always putting others’ needs first to save my life. (Smile.)

  In reaching the end of myself, I accepted Christ. Not out of faith but as my only other option. Turns out, it was a good choice. (Another smile.)

  The therapist and I worked together for several years. After I defended/justified his actions yet again, she came up with a way to help me move beyond this ingrained behaviour. Using different coloured markers, she drew a black stick figure on a white board.

  “This is him,” she said.

  “This is how you see him.”

  She drew a red stick figure over top to show me I had constructed this false idea of who my ex was. It was blinding me to see him for who he really was. It was stopping me from admitting how badly he had hurt me.

  I stopped feeling as though I deserved it, that it had all been my fault.

  Taking off the glasses was the first step to some deep healing.

  I feel rather stupid for not having done it sooner.

  Here’s where the idea of “can’t” comes in. That’s what the ear plugs in the painting represent. It’s not that I couldn’t see him for who he was, it was beyond my mind’s capability to accept the truth about a man who had shared my bed, my life and had fathered my child. The artificial construct I had created was out of a dire need to feel safe and, sadly, loved.

  There lies the inherent danger of wearing rose coloured glasses.

  Because of the massive shock generated when someone does something that falls outside our personal realm of possibility, we can’t believe, we can’t accept the truth. This happens even if, deep down, we believe it to some degree. It’s not that we won’t embrace the truth, it can’t be faced.

  It’s so unbelievably difficult to face a reality constructed of smoke and mirrors. When the veneer of our personal realities wavers, we are faced with taking a hard look at ourselves.

  I wore rose coloured glasses when I looked in a mirror, too. However, the lenses that warped what I saw in other people also warped what I saw in myself. I saw caring, serving, being respectful, and putting others first as fine traits…and they are…but, in reality, they were different facets of being completely compliant. Compliancy made these traits necessary for survival and maintaining safety.

  They ended up not being good attributes at all. (Balance is crucial, by the way.)

  When the reality we create warps and twists, it’s easier to hear God. Sometimes we’re not ready to hear what He has to say. The only reassurance I can offer is that God is very good at bringing us to the place where we can take out the ear plugs.

  Hearing about something horrible someone has done can trigger memories of similar circumstances in our own life. We might be in a place where we can’t face the truth of our own story. That’s okay. God knows where we are at right now, today. He’s with us as you sit and read my next typed word.

  Is constructing our own reality a sin? That’s an interesting question. If we don’t know or can’t hear when truth is not a truth, how could it be? However, now I know the truth about my compliant nature, I can repent or turn away from living a life that aided and abetted a twisted and artificial reality. 

    Thank You, Lord, for giving me eyes to see and ears to hear. AMEN