Face to Face with Myself

          “Never before have I experienced a part of me dying as strongly as I do now.  I praise God because it is bringing me closer to Him.”

            I had written this in my journal at a time in my life when I struggled and changed deep within.  Because of my rigid morals and self-discipline, my life had become painfully empty.  Ever since I could remember, I had suffered from being too hard on myself.  I set high moral expectations of myself as well as high academic and track standards, but I never satisfied the demands upon me when I reached them.  No matter how hard I tried, I could not please myself.  I could not accept myself, nor could I love myself.  I tried everything I could to please other people, so that they would accept me, but deep down inside I silently cried just for me to love myself.

            In eighth grade, I was an honors student.  I was also a hermit.  Every day after track practice I would go home from school and do my homework until dinner, and then again until bedtime.  I did not have many friends, so I did not go out much.  I tried to do the best that I could in everything, especially in homework, so it did not surprise me that at the end of my eighth grade year I had the highest academic average out of the entire class.  I imagined it made my parents love me more, and maybe even my closest friends admired me more, but I still could not love or accept myself.

            After a while I really began to feel like I lived my life in vain.  Why did I try so hard, and aim so high?  For what purpose was I living when I could not even be happy with myself or anything I did?

            My life stood motionless, an empty structure, an empty frame.  Nothing seemed to have any meaning or definition.  I felt like a cold stone wall separating myself from true joy and true happiness, because I refused to embrace my other self with the love I cried out for day and night.

            Something blocked the way in order for me to come face to face with myself.  The foundation of my life, the morals, the discipline, and the coldness had to be cleared out first so that I could know the true warmth of love.  All my life I had avoided this moment, but now it was time to face up to it, no matter how scary, no matter how painful.

            I eagerly participated in a retreat weekend, at Cedarbrake.  I was excited to be with many people my age and to spend the weekend in a wooden lodge in the middle of a beautiful, green forest learning more about God and how to have a closer walk with the Lord.  I had been praying earlier for God to help me change my life.  I wanted to be free of the wall that separated me from loving myself and loving other people.  I thought that if I could love myself, I could be less severe in the demands I made upon myself.  I wanted to die to myself, to the part of me that had no mercy, so that I could live fully the life God intended me to have.  Up until now, my thoughts were mostly self-centered.  There was hardly any room to think about the cares and needs of the people around me.  I was always so worried about doing my homework and living up to my morals that I judged people more than I loved them.  I wanted to be less selfish, less judgmental of people, and more loving.  I had no idea what was about to take place.  I did not know that God would take my prayers so seriously.

            “Hi, Father Brennan.”

            “Hello, are you ready for your confession?”

            “Yes.”

            “O.K., now tell me what’s been on your mind?”

            “Well…lately I’ve been judging people, and I know it’s wrong.”

            “Can you tell me why you’ve been judging people?”

            “I think it’s because I have a set of morals that I measure people up with, and if they do things that I think are wrong, then I look down on them.”

            “Are you self-righteous?”

            “Very!  When I see people who do bad things, like watch videos, or wear a lot of make-up, or dress in the latest fashion, or gossip on the telephone, I think of myself as righteous compared to them because I don’t do those things.”

            “Is there anything else that’s been bothering you?”

            “Yes, I think the root of the whole problem is that I’ve always been so hard on myself.  I have these high expectations and demands that I try to live up to, but I’m never happy with myself when I do.”

            “It looks like to me that there is a lack of love.”

            “Yes, probably.”

            “Let’s pray for a while, then I want you to tell God that you are sorry…”  We prayed, and then Father Brennan waited for me to repent.

            “I’m trying.”

            “Let’s try again.”  He waited a long time.

            “I can’t.”  I stood to my feet and walked outside of the chapel and into the forest.

            Never in my entire life had I not been able to tell God I was sorry, until now.  How could I apologize for a part of me that was so ingrained into my being, that to rip it out would cause immense pain and suffering?  I would have to die to a part of me.  I would have to destroy the self-righteousness that was me.  From this moment on, my life was to change forever.  Horribly shocked, I came face to face with myself.  For the first time I came in contact with the dark side of my heart, my other self.  It was hideous.  How could this black, ugly, sinful thing be me?  Yet it was.  I had ignored it and suppressed it all my life.  I had tried to make myself believe it wasn’t there.  No, this could not be me.  Yes, it was.  Yes, I acknowledged it.  Yes, this is me.  I had always thought that I was almost perfect, nothing like what I saw now.  I always thought I was such a good person, and that I hardly sinned at all.  How could I have possibly known what I was really like on the inside?  Nothing in the world could hold back the tears that flooded my face.  What did God think of me?  He must have known all along.  He must have loved me anyway, knowing the darkness that was there in my heart.  How could I have been so blind for so long?

            I was kneeling in the rocks in the hot sun, trying to imagine God as a great, big merciful God, and crying bitterly over the anguish in my soul.

            “I can’t leave you like this.”  It was Father Brennan, walking back towards the lodge.

            “I’m trying to tell God I’m sorry.”

            “Things like this take time.  You can’t do it all at once.”  He helped me to my feet.

            “How long will it take?”

            “As long as it takes for God to give you an inner healing.”

            “Why does it have to be so painful?”

            “Because it’s growth, and growth is painful.”

            That night I fell silent before the Lord.  He planted a seed in my heart that was to grow and replace the former foundation and structure of my life.  The roots to this seed were strong enough to demolish the cold stone wall that separated myself from acceptance and love.  The leaves to this seed found sunshine not in my morals but in the love I was able to share with other people.  The stem grew up straight and tall, poking a hole through my highest expectation, and the flower that blossomed so beautifully expressed a whole new me.