Over 11 years ago, I sat in a counselor's office with my husband who'd recently confessed adultery. His confession was very public, and details that came later were just as public. There were multiple relationships, and the women he'd been with were close friends. It was a LOT! For me, the specifics were so hideous that it was always easier to speak in generalities.... "My husband was unfaithful. He's repentant, and we are choosing to receive God's miracle healing. We want to save our marriage."
I mean, that sounds holy, right? It's simple enough. God will heal. He's promised to do exactly that, so why wouldn't we just trust Him and move forward?
Our first counselor said something to me early on that I've never forgotten, "Amy, my biggest fear for you is that you will grow bitter. A lot of people that were supposed to be for you have betrayed you. They were against you. I'm worried that your heart will prefer to shut people out, and bitterness will grow. I don't want that for you."
I'll never forget it, and I'll also never forget how adamantly I assured her that would never happen. In that moment, I was remembering all of the people in my life that had been good to me. For the most part, my people had always been my favorite gifts from God. Also, I'd seen what bitterness looked like on women. YUCK! I was absolutely, positively, 100% sure that bitterness was not in the cards for me.
I'm learning to be gracious and gentle with previous versions of me. That Amy was doing the best she could with the information she had in the moment. She could not have expected.....
Surprising debt,
Spiritual abuse under the care of a trusted leader,
Troubled teenagers and the (seeming) judgement of our Christian community,
Tension at home that accompanies teenager-life,
Neglect and emotional abandonment in difficulty,
Disappointment of another crumbling church staff,
Re-start (again) in career that carried with it the well-known financial stress,
A world-wide pandemic,
Grief that accompanies major life changes like sending a first-born off to college (WTH people should be more honest about this crisis of emotion),
and a country (believers and non-believers alike) spinning out of control in anxiety and pure meanness.
Hello, bitterness! It looks like you have indeed chosen to join me!
I didn't invite her, and I didn't want her here. However, I didn't actively and intentionally reject her. She arrived like a thief in the night, and once I realized I'd willingly opened the doors of my heart to her, there was no easy way to send her packing.
Bitterness is sneaky, you see. Naturally, my heart was feeling fear, rejection, sadness, and deep grief. Life was busy, though. We had things to do, so I didn't really have time to grieve or even partially address the sadness.
How in the world can bitterness and resentment be the outcome of mishandled or unhandled grief? That doesn't seem right. Grief shows up as tears, sadness, and inactivity. Bitterness looks aggressive, powerful, and active. Could it be the enemy of my soul and my family knows that bitterness could swoop in and wreck my life if I would simply ignore the deep and growing grief caused by disappointment?
This morning, I read this in my "Healing From Life's Disappointments," study,
"Jehovah Rapha (the God who heals) often uses life's disappointments to reveal the state of our hearts so that we can bring those broken hearts to Him for healing."
In Exodus 15, the newly freed Hebrews came to a place where the water they needed to drink was bitter. Understandably, they were upset and probably even scared. They had never been fully responsible for their provisions. They were slaves in Egypt, and that was awful. However, their basic needs were taken care of for them. On the other side of the Red Sea split, they were in need of water to live. The only water they had was bitter. So, they complained.
The bitter water didn't make their hearts bitter, but it did reveal the bitterness that was already brewing..... bitterness that came from immature faith and a genuine fear for their lives. A holier response would have been to acknowledge their truest emotions; fear, sadness, and even grief. Complaint and anger probably felt more powerful.
I know it was frustrating, Moses! But, I really get it!
Do you remember what God prescribed to make the bitter water sweet? It's so crazy! God told Moses to throw a piece of wood into the water. When he obeyed, the water became sweet to drink. How in the world can wood make anything clean?
Suddenly, I remembered another piece of wood mentioned in the Bible. Actually, Jesus spoke of this wood in Matthew 7 when He taught about the plank of wood we have in our own eyes that prevents us from seeing clearly.
Is it possible Jehovah Rapha will heal the growing bitterness in my own heart when I take the plank out of my eye and offer it to Him. I've justified the plank, because it represents a lot of disappointment, hurt, and pain that I did not ask for or even deserve.
This morning, I felt Jesus letting me know all of that is true. I have been mishandled and uncared for. It's really, really sad to my Heavenly Father, so He's given me Jesus who is more than happy to sit with me in my sadness. We can grieve together. Even though it feels weaker than the anger, it's a whole lot sweeter.
This may be a daily activity of surrender. I may be removing planks and tossing them into the bitter water daily. It seems terribly exhausting and even overwhelming.
You know what else is exhausting? Living with a bitter and resentful heart is exhausting, and it's damaging. I want better for me. I want better for my children. And, I want better for the whole body of Christ. I have a part to play in the work God is doing in His Church at this moment. Bitterness will take me out.
So, bitterness, this is where our time together ends. I hope you've enjoyed the free space, but you will have to find a new home. I won't miss you at all.
The Hebrews grumbled and complained. They wanted slavery, because it seemed to be easier. I'm choosing freedom even if it does take a lot of work, because bitterness has stolen enough peace!
Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, "Let me take the speck out of your eye," when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.
Matthew 7:3-5
