The Cure
Lately, I’m finding that only a very small portion of online therapy culture, even those who are Christian influencers, actually promote anything Biblical—anything that seems challenging.
Since I’m a Christian, I’m supposed to believe in things like forgiveness and justification and repentance. If you open up the New Testament in the Bible, you’ll find all kinds of scriptures that point to these topics. What I find revealing about Christian culture is that we all love to talk about reading the Bible or “spending time in the Word” and even scripture memorization but to actually practice the challenging things in scripture like “turning the other cheek” and generosity and meekness—well, that’s a whole other topic entirely.
Lately, I’m finding that only a very small portion of online therapy culture, even those who are Christian influencers, actually promote anything Biblical—anything that seems challenging or that will actually cause spiritual formation. But since therapy culture is also a trending topic on social media, it often comes with all of its peculiar trappings such as self-promotion, self-indulgence, and the competition for passive income.
I have no ill will toward therapy and have enjoyed a therapist during a number of seasons in my life. I love all the talk over “boundaries” and “abusive hierarchies” but I can’t help but ask if we are focusing so much on what we need to survive and to stop feeling emotional pain that we’re missing the opportunity to do all the very difficult things Jesus has asked us to do when we walk with Him—those things that will actually bring maturity, growth, and healing in our lives. Sometimes those things involve a lot of pain.
I’ve struggled with my mental health all my life and only recently have I tried to untangle where my emotional pain comes from. Lately I’ve been following the thread of pain all the way back to moments of offense or unforgiveness I’ve had toward others. When I feel the excruciation of rejection or being misunderstood, gossiped about, or assumptions being misapplied to me, the cut is inevitably pretty deep and sometimes I struggle with hopelessness for days. It seems extreme and some of you might believe you know exactly how to help me stop feeling this way. But I don’t know. I think I’m actually finding Jesus while experiencing the pain.
While in Germany a couple months ago, I spoke to a very wise missionary from Mozambique. I told him a bit of the journey I’d been on, how I’d been frustrated with the church for awhile and on occasion, I still struggle a little with relating to people in Christian culture who don’t really know how to talk to unbelievers. How they don’t seem to care that they are actually making our faith much less attractive by their behavior. If I go on, I might completely contradict myself so let’s keep going…
Anyway, this missionary began to talk to me about offense, how it can keep us from stepping into our place in the kingdom. He suggested I read a book by John Bevere with a really weird title that I don’t want to write in this blog. It’s about overcoming offense. Last week I read the book and I kind of feel like I’ll never be the same.
At the end of the book, Bevere asks us to make a list of all the people we’ve had trouble forgiving—everyone we can think of that we’re still offended by. We ask the Holy Spirit to reveal who these people are of course, because sometimes we don’t even know we’re offended until He tells us we are. After we make the list, he asks to pray that God would bless every person listed… for the next 30 days.
People, I’m on Day 10, and I can see the difference in my heart already. I’m praying for people who I didn’t even want to think about two weeks ago because the thought of them sent me into an emotional spiral—praying that their finances would be blessed, praying for promotion in their career/ministry, praying for God to strengthen their relationships. It’s a funny thing that happens when we pray for people who’ve been pissing us off for awhile. We begin to see how we might have also failed that person. How we’ve been trying to justify our crappy behavior toward them because their crappy behavior was supposedly so much worse.
It’s the whole speck and log thing Jesus spoke about. We are all soooo worried about pointing out what is wrong in another person but failing to let the Holy Spirit examine our own hearts.
Are we judging someone for their complaining but are justifying our gossip of them behind their backs?
Sure someone is not showing up on time, but are you preferring others as better than yourself instead of practicing self-promotion?
Maybe you’re buddy is watching porn but you’re treating women like they exist to feed your ego, stringing them along without any desire to commit to them.
And most importantly, praying for those you used to struggle to enjoy even a little bit actually causes you to love them. It’s true. Something happens in our heart because prayer reminds us that Jesus values these people—that He wants to use them just as He wants to use us—despite our failures and full lack of qualifications.
If you really want a good kick in the pants from Jesus, check out the whole book of 1 John. I mean, check out a few of these verses from chapter 4 from the Passion translation:
The one who doesn’t love has yet to know God, for God is love. (v. 8)
Delightfully loved ones, if he loved us with such tremendous love, then loving one another should be our way of life. (v.11)
If we love one another, God makes his permanent home in us, and we make our permanent home in him, and his love is brought to its full expression in us. (v. 12)
Anyone can say, “I love God,” yet have hatred toward another believer (v.20)… whoever loves God must also demonstrate love to others (v.21)
As I’ve been learning what it looks like to face those who’ve brought me pain—to actually approach them with a heart to bless them—well, it doesn’t seem like an ideal scenario for healing. But love is supernatural. When we choose to obey God in this area, He gives us a grace to love, reminding us that He is with us and that His love for us is so vast it swallows up what has been actually eating us alive.