Shame Interrupted

Every few years I reread Ed Welch’s book Shame Interrupted. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the feeling of never measuring up, which started early in life. This poem was the result of my ponderings.

***

The voices in my head tell me I don’t belong,
I’m not wanted,
     not welcome,
           not good enough.
I don’t look right,
     act right,
          feel right,
                talk right.
I still hear the whispers behind my back,
Taunts and jibes,
     trying to provoke a reaction.
I won’t let them know how it hurts,
     keep my head down,
Pretend I don’t hear them, I don’t care.
One day soon I’ll leave them behind,
     go to better places.

But the voices still follow me, still echo in my head.
I wasn’t invited,
      I’m not wanted,
             they don’t care.
There is One Voice I trust, One who never fails,
One Who says,
      “I hear,
             I know,
                   I love you.”
He too experienced shame,
Crucified, naked, taunted,
     “If you are the Christ!”
              “Save yourself!”
He endured the cross, despising the shame,
For us, for me.

There are some who speak His words,
     but they too forget,
They don’t hear the voices in my head.
They are dealing with voices of their own.
But God remains,
     interrupting shame,
Reminding me,
       “You are My beloved child.”

“Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood,
Sealed my pardon with His blood,
      Hallelujah, what a Savior!”

“For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Rom. 8:15).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Gently Led

I’ve been enjoying Alistair Begg’s recent series on the Fruit of the Spirit on Truth for Life, and appreciated his reminder that we cannot manufacture real fruit on our own. It is not the fruit of self-effort, but the fruit of the Holy Spirit working in us and with us and through us. The sermon on gentleness in particular caught my attention as he talked about the gentleness of God and its manifestation in the life of Christ. As I searched later, I came up with a few relevant verses:

• “Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:29).
• “A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not quench” (Matt. 12:20a and Isaiah 42:3).
• “He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; He will carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that are with young” (Isaiah 20:11).

One of the opportune times to exercise gentleness is in response to sin: “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness” (Galatians 6:1a). As I was thinking about that, it occurred to me that sometimes it’s easier to respond to others with gentleness than it is to be gentle with ourselves when we fail. Charles Simeon wrote,

“I have continually had such a sense of my sinfulness as would sink me into utter despair, if I had not an assured view of the sufficiency and willingness of Christ to save me to the uttermost. And at the same time I had such a sense of my acceptance through Christ as would overset my little bark, if I had no ballast at the bottom sufficient to sink a vessel of no ordinary size” (as quoted by John Piper in The Roots of Endurance, 107).

I can’t speak for him, but I find it far easier to remember my sinfulness than God’s forgiveness. I’ve come to think of shame as a “guilt ghost.” It is a spectre that lingers long after the offense is forgiven. It has no real power, but it deludes me into thinking more about my sin than my Savior. So I often need a reminder of the gentleness that God shows to His children. His desire is to draw us close, carry us, provide sustenance and rest, teach us, and lead us. Yet we keep wriggling away and trying to prove our worth rather than trusting Him.

I like the way David Phelps phrased it in his song “Gentle Savior”

Why can’t I walk away from my regrets,

And why is forgiveness so hard to accept?

My past surrounds me like a house I can’t afford,

But You say, “Come with Me, don’t live there anymore”

May God gently draw our eyes back to Him each day so that we may be assured of His love, forgiveness, grace, and mercy. Jesus indeed is the Good Shepherd who laid down His life for His sheep and who continues to care for each one.

“Because you are precious in My eyes, and honored, and I love you, I give men in return for you, peoples in exchange for your life” (Isaiah 43:4).

© 2017 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.