As my mother approaches her 93rd birthday, I find myself contemplating how she raised me much more often. She didn't stress over perfection or controlling our every move, but she did have a pet peeve when it came to lying.
The point she drove home is still with me today. A lie was not going to be tolerated. We were even promised that our mischief would get us into less trouble if we always told the truth about our misdeeds. I played pretty close attention to this golden rule, especially when I knew that the probability of getting caught was high.
Something about this rule taught me the importance of silence, like the occasion when I got stopped for speeding for the first time. I was well into adulthood before I admitted getting that "blue light special" one cold winter night when I was a senior in high school. Mama's response was classic: "What else have you not told me?" Fortunately, there wasn't much else to tell.
My biggest lies were the ones I told myself and they were the ones that did the most damage. I started this practice at an early age and I remember the first manifestations coming when I spent the night with friends. I would sit down for meals and eat a polite serving, which meant I always left the table hungry. I was sure that I should not eat too much, since that might "wear out my welcome."
This was a lie that I held tightly to through most of my childhood. Of course, my mother knew something about these visits were amiss. Often, when I got picked up, my friend's parents would heap praises on me for being so polite. Mama would just smile and tell them they should come home with us so they could meet the real me.
The first thing they would have noticed is that the only break I took from eating was to come up for air. All that politeness made a boy hungry. Pretty soon, they would notice that I was far more opinionated than they would ever know and most of my views were expressed best through whining. Mama knew me best.
Unless I was making people laugh, I preferred to stay out of sight in most cases. My love of humor, which runs deep in the family blood, is what eventually drew me out of my shell. My brothers before me were legendary in this department and they shaped my ability to get a chuckle from almost anything. Laughter is certainly good medicine.
Such medicine was helpful in comforting the damage I was doing with the lies I repeatedly told myself. I believed I was not as good or as important as other kids. No one ever told me that, except for the occasional verbal bullies, but I bought into it. Those big lies kept me from pursuing my potential because I didn't see the possibilities that were hiding behind the veils of my misconceptions about myself.
As a young adult, I eventually started pressing through the maze of my thoughts to see my way to a productive life. This was not a sudden or easy transition, but it was worth the trouble. Being true to myself was a breath of fresh air that was long past due.
Telling yourself the truth about your strengths and weaknesses is important. I knew all about my weaknesses, but the strengths remained hidden for far too long. Many people told me what my strengths were, but I rarely listened until I was an adult.
The greatest truth I ever heard came to my heart one night while I was praying. I was telling the Lord how sorry I was for the times I allowed sin to take me for some rough rides. His answer to my constant reminders of my unworthiness was astounding. "You were never there," the Lord said. I redialed His number and asked for some clarity. "You are born again from My incorruptible seed. You are a new creation and old things have passed away, so you were never there."
I protested strongly, assuring the Lord that I was the one doing the sinning, so I had to be there. I caught the Lord in a talkative mood and He took me up on my assertions. "A born again spirit has no desire to sin. The flesh knows nothing but sin. "
That was the day that truth started setting in for me spiritually. My earthly nature, the one I was born with, will always seek its own way. The gift of God, my born again spirit, will always seek to please God. It's just a matter of which nature I surrender to or choose.
My assignment is to keep renewing my mind through scripture and prayer so that I know how to choose wisely. That doesn't just happen. My past ways of thinking and doing things return quickly when my heart is not refreshed with the truth of who I am in Christ.
Whether you are a child or an adult, thoughts and feelings can fool you and rob you of the truth of your worth. I'm glad that God sees me in the light of His truth even when I may temporarily fall for a lie. Mama was right. It really is better to tell the truth, especially when you are talking to your self.