We must learn to recognize the things that rob us of rest.
As God began to teach me more about returning and resting in Him, He began to reveal to me more about the rest-robbers in my life and how to release them. He started shining a light on the Ps in my heart—things stealing my rest and trust in Him. (Read more about that here.)
As He led me to pay attention to my pain points, I started noticing patterns. I asked the Holy Spirit to give me insight into what was behind repeated behaviors or habits. Over time and through prayer, I began to see truth. For each P in my life (like pride, performing, or people pleasing), I discovered lies that had taken root, orienting my thinking away from God.
Discovering root lies is a Holy Spirit-led work. There are ways things work, a rhythm of paying attention, presenting what you notice to the Holy Spirit for insight, then putting off lies and putting on truth.
As I began paying attention, I started noticing my anger. It would boil up and explode, seemingly out of nowhere, usually all over people I love deeply. Asking God for insight, I discovered the anger was a result of frustration and helplessness I felt every time I failed to live up to my own expectations. These are results of my P of performing. If I appeared less competent, less thoughtful, or less “good” than I wanted to be, I would get very angry. I presented this to the Lord, asking Him to help me identify the lies that fed the anger.
He showed me my performing P is rooted in two lies. The first lie is, “You are required to be a responsible, reliable person.” The second lie is, “There’s no help coming; you are on your own.”
These lies formed a lens through which I viewed the world. It went something like this: “I have to perform well to be loved by God and others, and I have to figure out how to do that on my own because no one will help me.” Together, the lies and the perspective or lens created by them led me to an idol of performing as a way of self-protection.
An event in early 1977 cemented this broken view I had of myself and of God. My family had moved to Washington, DC, from the Deep South in 1975. I was bullied by classmates for much of the two years we lived there. The bullying culminated with a group of girls grabbing me during recess. They tied me up to a soccer goalpost with bandannas and left me there while the rest of the class continued to play soccer around me. I felt helpless and alone. I made my first alliance with Wonder Woman on that playground.
While I was tied to that goalpost, I made a vow I would never let anyone treat me like that again. I swore I would never again let myself be that vulnerable. I was sure I had done something to cause the continual mistreatment by classmates I thought were my friends. Deep, wounding messages lodged in my little-girl heart. I had given that heart to Jesus the year before, but I was a baby Christian. Even though He eventually sent a single, brave classmate to show compassion and untie me, damage was done. My elementary school heart wasn’t sure I could trust Him fully. It definitely felt it could not trust people who pretended to be my friends.
It was years before I understood the truth: I can trust God; I am not on my own; I don’t have to perform or to be responsible for everything; and my actions were not responsible for the hurtful choices my classmates made.
The lies of the enemy had stolen those truths from me. But only for a time.
In Isaiah 30:1, God calls His children in Judah to accoung for making “an alliance, but not of my Spirit, that they may add sin to sin” (ESV).
Adding sin to sin is not something I am interested in. But that is what happens when I align myself with powers and plans that aren’t of God. The Holy Spirit helped me trace my performance P back to lies cemented that day on the playground. I realized how destructive alliances like that can be. Admiring a fictional character isn’t a problem for most people, but for me it was a slow-working poison. I didn’t stop at admiring Wonder Woman. I made a vow to be strong “like her” so that no one could hurt me like that again.
In my pain, I aligned myself with the lie that God had abandoned me as well as the lie that I could not trust Him. In my childhood hurt, I grabbed on to a popular TV character who seemed to be able to handle all her own problems. I traded my true identity as God’s beloved child for a false identity based on lies. It shaped the lens I viewed my life through, and it was reinforced through the loud voices of the world. It was a bad trade.
God does not leave us in our prisons, though. Even when they are prisons we cannot see because truth is veiled by agreements and alliances we have made with lesser gods. We do not have to stay in darkness.
2 Corinthians 3 holds glorious promises: “But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. . . And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this come from the Lord who is the Spirit” (16, 18, ESV).
I have returned twice as an adult to the playground where I was tied to the soccer goalpost. The first time, in 2011, I was stunned to discover that after more than three decades, the soccer goal was still standing. I wept as I stood in that spot declaring forgiveness to kids who had bullied me years before. I was on holy ground both physically and in the healing God was beginning in my heart.
In 2018, I had the opportunity to go back. I was stunned once again. The entire playground had been transformed and re-landscaped. The place the goalposts once stood was now a garden, planted with bushes that had attracted butterflies. Not a trace of the old soccer goals remained. The new life analogy was not lost on me. Tears again, but this time tears of pure joy at the creative and loving heart of God. He cemented something different more deeply in my heart that day: in the end He makes beauty even from places of ruin.
God is all about transformation and redemption, even in the landscapes (literal and metaphorical) that have contained great pain. He invites each of us to return and rest in Him. He also shows us the way to do so, even when it seems impossible. May you find more of Him.
Adapted from Return and Rest: A Study in Isaiah 30. Get your copy here.