The dark spot she brightened

I was listening to Focus on the Family on the way back from lunch, and was feeling pretty trapped by the life I've chosen. Today's guest, Paul Coughlin, was discussing the ways that Christian men get the gospel message wrong that keep us from being strong in our witness.

He was asked by the host what sort of things a Christian should watch out for to determine if he might be falling into this trap, and his response floored me. Honesty and sincerity, he basically said. He indicated that some of the most consistent counseling he's done has been with pastors and grown sons of pastors. He said that they tend to display persona rather than personalities. They present a front or a mask to whomever their audience happens to be - their church, their community, their family - that represents what they think that audience expects of them rather than their true selves.

And I couldn't help but think that this is true of pretty much my entire life.

As I read more of what he means by this, he does not seem to be addressing the parts of myself that I rightfully subjugate to my marriage. J.R.R. Tolkien also indicates that there are indeed things that a man should be expected to turn from in order to love his spouse as he is called to do. Most of what I deal with falls into this category. Indeed, the specific needs which Coughlin's article makes clear that men mustn't deny are genuinely met in my relationship with my bride.

And yet I find myself feeling that I am withholding myself from, well, pretty much everyone.

This is especially difficult for me, as authenticity was always one of my strongest values. My mother hated nothing like artifice and dishonesty (ironically enough; sorry, mom, but your secrets ran deep). And while I am certain that I have chosen rightly in how I am living, I tire of being so guarded lest I hurt the ones I love by making them feel that I would choose otherwise if I had the chance. Instead I choose to hide my choices so as not to reveal anything hurtful about them, about myself.

Upon returning to my desk after hearing this on the radio, the next thing that happened was a follow-up phone call from my wife indicating that our granddaughter had called her. She'd been lamenting that she hadn't heard from her. I was glad for her, while also a little hurt that I haven't had that sort of contact, which I expressed as a joking lament about being able to tell who rates. It was shortly after this that my granddaughter called me, too, and my wife still hasn't answered my query as to whether that might have been a prompted call.  I'm therefore sure it must have been, but I appreciate it anyway, from both of them.

I know that most of this is another example of being entirely too "in my head." Jesus is greater than any of it, and is the context for receiving the good things and dealing with the challenging parts.