Two-Edged Sword

            This is personal and some of it hurts to write. Some will read this and say I shouldn’t go there. Well, this is me; this is what I feel; this is how I got here. I found a remarkable line by Charles Colson sometime back. I jotted it down like I do with dozens and dozens of people’s words – people who are so much smarter than me. Colson said Christianity is a “two-edged sword.” He said, “Jesus came not only to comfort the afflicted, but to afflict the comfortable.” And in my journey to find who I am those words staggered me.

            “Never once did I see myself having really sinned … I rationalized … right and wrong were relative … my motives were good … but, I was tired, empty sick inside. For the first time in my life I felt unclean, and worst of all. I could not escape. In those moments, I found myself driven into the arms of God.”

            Chuck Colson was describing his fall and saving. And I knew every word he wrote was true. See, on the outside I was doing everything right. I was active in my church and community; I had a picture perfect home with a beautiful, successful wife and two amazing sons. I was a big fish in a little pond at work. My opinion and counsel was sought after; I could intimidate folks with my “insight.” I had power and prestige in our tight little world.

            I knew everything and was right almost always – or so I thought. Everything was perfect. Except … except I would rationalize lies and deceit daily. Stealing from work was wrong – I knew it the moment I began and I still recall the angst and utter contempt I felt for myself – but worse was failure and disappointment. So, I rationalized it all away and gave thousands to charity. Every needy group was part of my giving. I was like a modern-day Robin Hood. It was all ok, I thought. People will understand. They’ll realize my intentions are good. The truth was nothing like that. The truth was, I was dying inside, one lie at a time.

            And nothing made me happy. There were moments when I’d buy her something beautiful and I’d think this time, yeah this time she’ll throw her arms around me and say she loves it and she loves me. That never happened. And I was left with an emptiness that gnawed at me.

            “Cheap grace.” It’s a term coined by the German theologian Dietrich Bonheoffer to describe modern Christianity’s view of contrition. We’re “good people” and God just loves us. We ignore the dirt and failure in our own lives; we ignore the ultimate price God charged to cleanse us. We ignore it – but we really don’t, because we constantly search for that elusive feeling of peace and acceptance and love.

            I’m chasing that. And there’s a battle raging inside of me. On the one hand, I feel like I sold my soul. I was unworthy of anything good. I knew what I wanted. I wanted her to say “I love you,” I wanted her to say she was proud of me and I mattered. And yet in twenty-eight years she’d never spontaneously and without prompting said any of that. “You’re not who you say you are.” I thought that every day and I thought when the truth comes out, so will everyone’s real feelings for me, “They’ll all leave,” I’d think.

            But on the other hand, I’d see me reach out to someone in need, be there for someone hurting, stand on a principle and risk my job, and I’d tell myself, “you’re ok.”

            Famed Russian author and Gulag survivor Alexander Solzhenitsyn said he learned in prison, “the meaning of our earthly existence is not … in prosperity, but in the development of the soul.” My life came crashing down August 18, 2008. It was a beautiful, sunny, summer Monday and everything that I feared came to pass that day. In truth, my life had been inalterably spinning toward that day for years. I was drinking too much and I’d given up hope that there was any easy way out of the mess I created.

            8/18 and the company president asks me about a questionable check and gives me a letter suspending me – with pay – while they investigate this $30,000 check. I don’t know why, maybe I was tired of all the lies; maybe I was tired of hating who I was. But, unprompted, I told him the truth (I became a defense lawyer’s worst client nightmare). And I told him I was afraid I’d lose her, and our kids, and all those people who hung on to me. You know what honestly got me? A trip to the sheriff’s department, booked, denied bond (our assets made me a flight risk) jailed, and in the news. And all the things I feared all the loss I couldn’t live with, started to happen.

            Five days later, struggling to hold on to my sanity, I gave up. I’m a lot of things, but I’ve never been a quitter … until then. I found myself in a place I never wanted to be. I made my peace with God – if you ever really do that in those situations. And, I told Him I was sorry for the mess I made of my life. I told Him how much I loved her and our boys and I couldn’t face life without them, living as a failure.

            A theologian once described repentance as, “when you’re so sorry that it hurts to your marrow … and you truly understand why you do what you do, and it creates a desire to change.” He’s right. I had that moment right then and for some inexplicable reason, God saw fit to bring me back from the brink.

            Everything I feared was taken from me. She left, moved on; my sons became estranged from me. I was left with friends numbering less than my fingers. And, I was sentenced beyond what my attorney thought possible, even after paying down half the judgment against me.

            A “two-edged sword.” In my prosperity and arrogance I was afflicted. Everything was stripped bare. But, I found comfort. “I sought the Lord and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.” I love those words from Psalm 34. None of the guys in here, none of those outside who are closest to me, know I live with heartbreak. I don’t let it out, the pain and hurt from the loss, but it’s there. So is hope.

            In college I read Dostoevsky and Solzhenitsyn. In here, I figured out what they truly meant. “This poor man cried and the Lord heard him and saved him out of all his troubles.” I’m not sure why this all hit me this week. I just know the words came easily.