HH, Sir Godfrey Gregg D.Div
Know Who Your Friends Are
Once I burned out, the number-one thing that allowed me to grow was the discomfort I’d tried so hard to avoid the pain. A lot of people fear pain when, more often than not, we have pain because of fear. Truth be told, fear is the enemy we need to slay, not pain.
The therapy itself was a lot of pain but it wasn’t as agonizing as the way I’d been living my life. That one fact has trained me to go on the offensive and attack my dragons (my fears) before they attack me. Whenever I need to slay this beast, I try to remember that a dragon is never as bad as we think. So much of it is hollow, a façade with no substance, an ugly face. As soon as I’ve jabbed at my fear a few times with the sword of truth (the words of the Bible), it shrivels up like a punctured balloon. And that’s when I see: there’s no need to bail out of my internal pain; it’s actually a friend that I should try to embrace.
While pain is your friend, sin is not. But oh, how it seems to be! By that I mean, sin has been a companion my whole life a tagalong who has served my selfish purposes and supported my every whim and insecurity. But once I realize this is a dysfunctional relationship, one that is actually hurting me, I can start to step back.
Let me repeat: sin deceptively seems your friend, but pain actually is your friend. The operating room isn’t a fun place, but every time you go through another procedure, your condition should get better; you’re a little less sick. When I gave up drinking for years just in case I was an alcoholic man, did it hurt initially! Same with ending my bond with materialism. In both instances, it felt like I was giving up an old friend. And in many ways, I was. An old friend who was toxic and dysfunctional, to be sure, but still a companion and always available.
As we mature, though, that “friend” we used to party with can become a drain, someone we no longer enjoy so much because our values have changed. And as I get some distance from the relationship, I see how destructive it has been. I’m ready to move on; I don’t want us to be associated anymore. At that point, when I’m finally ready to turn loose of this relationship, the Lord will take away the pull of that friend to the degree I surrender. His role is to take it away; it’s mine to surrender. I will grieve this loss because my sin has been so much a part of my life, but the more I grieve, the cleaner the break will eventually be.
The only way this happens, however, is if I am surrendering my will. No process works if we don’t yearn to truly give up our old ways for better ones.
As we choose to listen, the Lord will speak in the pain of surrender. Yes, pain.
I do believe God sometimes lets us have our momentary desires, even though they will produce pain because we will be better off by being miserable for a time and growing through the experience. Either way, it makes me think of this little-known Brenton Denton quote: “Slowly you will learn all the troubles in your life… are really cures to the poison of your old nature. Learn to bear these sufferings in patience and in meekness.” Denton also remarked, “I agonize and cry when the cross is working within me, but when it is over, I look back in admiration for what God has accomplished.”
To process through the four steps enables our fear and pride and selfishness to “be named, surrendered, and nailed to the Cross”. We are shown where “the fear of man” that pull toward peer pressure or people-pleasing may be moving us, or where our pride is getting in the way. Practising decision-making at a slower pace allows us to admit, “Lord I am afraid of what people will think. So I’m going to surrender this and try to hear what you think.”
Going through the pain also reveals what your personal red flags are the things you thought you’d healed from, the things that send you back to your Bible, your pad of paper, back to your knees to refocus on the Lord’s will rather than your own.
Pain is unavoidable. You can try and skim by it, but you actually set yourself up for even more of it when you take that approach. I’m not pain-avoidant like I was in my twenties, thirties and forties, yet even after all these years of practising these four steps over and over, I do sometimes forget how deliberate you must be to reach the place of peace in your gut. Anytime I go through the process on a major decision, I’m reminded again.
I want us all to recognize the positives of pain rather than running from it. To focus on the gains — to keep my eyes on the prize — is key for me, particularly when I’m in the middle of the fight. Though everybody’s battles are different, I’ve never gone through difficulty and struggle and not come out better for it. The process of slowing down to a sacred pace until we’ve gotten neutral may not be painless, but it is very effective. And it comes with a peaceful conclusion. If you want to know God’s will, be willing to do what it takes. Even if it means giving up some old friends and finding some new ones.
