While working on a special project, I looked through hundreds of columns I've written since 1984. When I read this one, written in 2003, I decided to share it with you.
A stranger e-mailed to say she reads and enjoys my columns. When I thanked her for writing, she sent another e-mail, telling me a bit about her life. In closing, she said, “I didn't mean to bend your ear so; but, as I said, you talk like a friend and family.”
Thrilled by that compliment, I sent her an e-mail, saying, “Thank you for helping me to know you. I love it when readers do that! And I appreciate your saying that I sound like a friend and family member. I hope that means I sound ‘real,’ for I do want to be authentic and open, rather than ‘holier than thou,’ which sometimes happens when one writes a ‘religious’ column.
“Actually, I am (painfully!) aware of how often I stumble and how much I struggle to overcome habits that I should have conquered years ago. Whenever I admit such struggles, I'm ‘plumb embarrassed,’ and I wonder what readers think of me.”
When I re-read those e-mail messages, I thought about the advice successful “inspirational” writers often give. “Tell the truth. Be vulnerable. Don’t try to make your readers think you are perfect or that you have it 'all together.'"
Although it is embarrassing to admit one’s failures, a writer who urges readers to become more Christ-like must be willing to at least imply, “I’m not perfect, but I am trying to become more like Christ. Let’s journey together toward that goal.”
And it’s progress toward that goal, rather than perfection, that we seek. As long as we are in this life, we will make mistakes. We will stumble. We will sin—sometimes unintentionally, sometimes willfully.
David and Paul (who, under the inspiration of God’s Spirit, wrote major portions of the Bible) often confessed their faults and failures. Yet, we (the readers) turn again and again to their writings. Why? Knowing we are not the only ones who try and fail…try and fail…makes us feel better!
Instead of encouraging us to wallow in the mire of our humanity, the testimonies of others inspire us to get up and try again. For example, when David says,“ I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me” (Psalm 51:3, New International Version), we say, “That’s true of me, too.” So we read on, eager to find out how David deals with his guilt.
When David prays, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me…Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me” (Psalm 51:10, 12, NIV), we say, “Ah! I need to do that, too.”
Like David, the Apostle Paul often referred to his shameful past, but he always quickly pointed out how God had been gracious and merciful to a sinner such as he. (See 1 Timothy 1:12-17.)
From such stories, we learn that God will extend unmerited mercy and grace to us, also. And we, along with untold millions, might have missed knowing that (and other wonderful truths, as well,) if David and Paul had been too ashamed to admit they weren’t perfect.
