His Mercies are New Every Morning

Guilt.

There is an appropriate time and place for guilt.  When we have done wrong, that sense of guilt can be God-given and God-honoring if we respond rightly.  If we are Christians, the Holy Spirit convicts us for the purpose of repentance, restoration, and redemption.

We repent, God forgives, we move on … it is that simple.

As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
Psalm 103:12

For many of us, however, it isn’t always that simple.  Some of us walk our journeys with the weight of guilt and shame bundled in heavy sacks across our shoulders.  It impacts every step we take.  It clouds every thought.  It makes the day to day tasks even more exhausting.  It is a brutal way to live.

Sometimes people speak highly of us and while we are appreciative of the kind words, inwardly we cringe and think, ‘Oh, if they only knew.’

How often have we said or heard another woman say, ‘I should have handled that differently’ or ‘I should have made a different decision’ or ‘Maybe I should have done this instead’ or ‘If only I had …’?

How many of us build walls and hide ourselves from people around us as a result?

Probably more than we realize.

I’ve been pondering and working through these thoughts for years but more intensely over the last few weeks as I have been entrenched in an ugly battle with anxiety and fear.  The kind that awakens the old gremlins in my stomach so they start tearing me apart as though they are trying to escape.  The kind of battles that refuse to let me sleep as my brain relentlessly recounts all the times I have messed something up.  The kind that make me afraid to write because I feel like a sham.  The kind that makes me afraid to talk with people because I feel worthless.  The kind that drives me into the deepest recesses of my mind so I can hide from everything.

This is me.  This is the battle I have been fighting my entire life.

Every decision in my life has been made out of fear.  Every decision I have avoided making has been due to fear.  Literally every step in my life has been dictated by fear.

That much fear cultivates the soil perfectly for guilt seeds to thrive.

Those guilt seeds, in a sensitive-natured person like myself, quickly become an overgrown weedy patch of shame … which, in turn, triggers a whole lot more anxiety and fear.

Talk about a nasty cycle.

I have a series I’ve been contemplating writing that would highlight the lessons God is teaching me through all of this … but for today, I want to share only a few thoughts that might be useful for someone else.

Sometimes we carry guilt simply because our perspective of a situation is wrong.

Sometimes we carry guilt for sins not confessed.

Sometimes we carry guilt for sins confessed but our pride refuses to release.

Let me share a personal example as an illustration …

When my son was diagnosed with autism years ago, there were still articles and people around that blamed the mother for autism.  ‘Refrigerator Mother’ was still a relatively common term.  There were (and are) still plenty of articles and people around who will blame a mother if her child doesn’t progress well on the autism journey.

I carried guilt for years that my son’s autism was my fault.  I carried guilt for years that the severity of my son’s autism was my fault. That guilt I carried never allowed me to simply grieve the diagnosis so we could live the life we had been given.

Logically I can understand that I did not cause my son’s autism.  But the guilt I carried, compounded by my fearful/selfish nature and other difficult life circumstances, caused me to make decisions (or avoid making decisions) that may have impacted my son’s autism journey.

To carry guilt that my son has autism is foolish.  That is a guilt that was never mine to carry.

However, I am responsible for what I did after the diagnosis … and yes, I do tend to carry a lot of guilt because I know I could have handled things better.  It took years for me to learn how to be his mother and love him well.  We have grown up together in many ways.

Now, to confess poor decisions from the past before the Lord is wise and the correct thing to do.  To continually beat myself up over past poor decisions is foolish and is mostly likely a sign of pride.

Here is another example …

My attends a private autism school while I homeschool his siblings.  I used to struggle with guilt that I was sending him away even though I knew he needed the resources that a specialized school could provide and I needed those resources as well.  This was a misplaced guilt.

However, if I don’t attend meetings or implement behavioral strategies at home, then guilt would be valid.  But sending him to an environment where he can best learn and then investing that time into his siblings is not a valid occasion for guilt.

Does that make sense?

Lamentations 3 has been a source of encouragement to me on this journey and I want to share it here so these beautiful words of hope might encourage someone else.

Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness. 
Surely my soul remembers a
nd is bowed down within me.

This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.
The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,“Therefore I have hope in Him.”
The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.
It is good that he waits silently for the salvation of the Lord.
Lamentations 3:19-26

 

It is important to spend time with the Lord concerning issues that invite a sense of guilt or shame.  Sometimes it is even helpful to talk them through with a wise and trustworthy counselor, Pastor, or friend who can share insight that we may not see.  Where there is sin to be confessed, we absolutely need to do so and then leave it at the cross.  If the sense of guilt or shame is not rooted in sin, then we need to learn to speak truth into the lies and walk freely.

It is imperative to learn how to discern between God-given guilt due to sin and our human tendency to feel of guilt/shame concerning issues that have nothing to do with sin.

However, in each and every case, we need to remember that the Lord’s lovingkindness never ceases and His mercies are new every morning.

Every day is a new opportunity to make wise decisions.

Every day is a new opportunity to do the right thing.

Every day is a new opportunity to choose not to define our lives by misplaced guilt and shame from the past but to find our identity in Christ alone.

Great is His faithfulness!

Surely My Soul Remembers …

It has been a little while since I have written here but it hasn’t been from lack of desire or material.  It is simply not a season for writing … it is a season of fighting battles and walking the rugged mountains of the journey.

This past week was filled with tremendous challenge yet, the compassion and faithfulness of God shone brilliantly through each situation and difficulty.  As I prayerfully walked each step of the path, the very presence of the Lord went before me and surrounded me.  I was and continue to be overwhelmed by His grace and mercy.

With those challenges behind me, I am now looking forward to even more challenges in the days ahead.  Different kinds of challenges, but all significant in their own ways.

During this season, I have been drawn repeatedly to a long-time favorite passage in Lamentations 3.

“Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness.
Surely my soul remembers and is bowed down within me.
This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.
The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“Therefore I have hope in Him.”
The Lord is good to those who wait for Him,
To the person who seeks Him.
It is good that he waits silently f
or the salvation of the Lord.”
Lamentations 3:19-26

 

As I read this passage earlier this week, I was reminded of years gone by when it seemed that no matter what I did or how hard I tried, I was stuck.  No matter what I tried with my autistic son, he made very little progress.  No matter what I did in certain difficult relationships at the time, there was never any change or growth.  I lived for years with no hope.  I recalled feeling like I was trapped inside a solid concrete cell and my only tool was a toy foam hammer … absolutely useless against the walls that held me.

I remembered years of a most lonely and bitter wilderness experience.

I remember now and I do not ever want to forget because I have also watched the Lord step in and do what I could never do on my own.  He began to break down those concrete walls, bit by bit … piece by piece.  I have watched Him faithfully step into difficult moments and guide me over the roughest parts of the mountain peaks when it seemed I was about to fall.  I have watched Him shatter the chains of bondage. I have watched my autistic son grow in amazing ways that only can be attributed to the hand of God.  I have tasted freedom, while still within the most restrictive of circumstances.  I have experienced the lovingkindness of a Savior and I have witnessed His compassion … time and time again.

“For if He causes grief, then He will have compassion
according to His abundant lovingkindness.”
Lamentations 3:32

I can look back over all those years and understand now that the Lord allowed all of it.  He allowed the grief of the past but His compassion flows freely through each difficulty of the present.

My journey may be no less challenging and lonely today but now I understand the faithfulness of my one constant Companion.  He is the Friend who sticks closer than a brother.

What a gift that is to a weary pilgrim.

And so even now, as I seemingly stand on the edge of a precipice and what lies beyond the next step is yet unknown, my spirit is gripped with anxiety.  However, I can reach out my foot and take that next step, not in my own strength or abilities, but because I can trust in His great faithfulness and compassion.

Surely my soul remembers and therefore, I have hope.