Acceptance Part II

I’ve had a lot of comments (personally) on what I wrote about acceptance, so I feel bold enough to write part two. Your self-talk—the tape you play in your head about yourself—is a good indication of how you’re doing at accepting yourself. I recently went to hear a dear friend of mine speak on the condemning heart, described in 1 John 3:19–20: “This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.”

When we’re already feeling low, own hearts aren’t afraid to pounce on us and finish us off with thoughts like, “You’re not as good as everyone else.” Or “The world would be better off without you.” We might hear, “You’re a failure as a mom/wife/employee/sister/friend.” (My friend contrasted this with legitimate conviction of the Holy Spirit, which addresses more specific issues: “Why did you lie to your friend? Why did you lose your temper with your daughter?”)

I don’t struggle a whole lot with negative self-talk. I’m usually the queen of the pep talk. But about two weeks ago, as I sat in the library minding my own business and trying to work, my condemning heart jumped me. I was feeling left out of things that were happening at my old job, and it stung. (Brief pause for a moment of self-disclosure: I hate feeling left out. I was the little girl who crawled out of bed in her nightgown to lay on the hallway floor when my parents had a party. It didn’t matter that no one knew I was there or if I feel asleep, as long as I wasn’t left out of the party.)

OK, back to the library. First I got billyclubbed with this one: “You’re insignificant now, without a job. Your worth has gone through the toilet.” Then came this blow: “No one outside your home needs you.” (I may be susceptible to lies, but I’ve got enough on-the-job evidence to know that I’m surely needed at home. Someone’s gotta cut all those apples and pour all that juice.)

I know enough to know that these are lies and the only way to combat lies is with truth. You can’t just say, “Shut up and go away!” to your condemning heart. It’s too loud to silence. Instead, you have to replace it with an even louder message, a message of truth. So I started in: “I have great worth. I am a child of God. I was created in His likeness. There is no one like me. Even if I were the only person on the planet, Jesus would have died for me and me alone. I have great worth—not because of what I do but because of who I was made by.”

Over and over, eyes closed, rocking back and forth in my chair. At the library. Fortunately there are a lot of homeless schizophrenics at the library looking to get out of the heat, so I sort of blended in. It was an all-day battle, but eventually truth won out and my mind was at peace. Then I had to apologize to Kevin, because when my condemning heart tells me no one needs me except my family, it’s an attack on him and my kids as much as it is on me. Darn right they need me, and there’s no greater needs I want to meet than those of my husband and kids!

God is greater than our condemning hearts. He knows us better than we know ourselves. And despite how well He knows us—because of how well He knows us—He accepts us.