My wicked black root

My whole life I've never really been known for my humility. Primarily because I've spent most of my life being put down. I found it pretty counter productive to join in on that whole band-wagon. I remember at a young age, somewhere between 5 and 6 years old, I was too afraid to ride a bicycle. I had crashed a few years before and it scared me pretty good. My father tried in vain to get me back on the horse. It didn't take. I imagine it was pretty embarrassing to his friends to have his eldest born boy, named after him, screaming like a girl whenever he put me on a bike. I know that he probably forget it moments after he made the statement but I will never forget the words he told me in frustration after the umpteenth time trying to get me to ride.

"I'm ashamed you have my name."

That wasn't easy for me to swallow. My whole life up to that point I had prided myself in my father's name. It wasn't any surprise to me though. My little brother had always been tougher than me. He didn't cry much. He was built larger than me. He was braver than me. I envied those traits. I always felt that my dad had wanted to share his name with him. To hear him say that confirmed all my fears.

Fast-forward to the 6th grade. My family was going through an extra-ordinarily difficult time. Money was tight. My dad had to work nights just to pay the rent. After a huge argument between all of my siblings I remember us sitting down for a family meeting. I have always had a pretty big mouth. I've never been very good at just letting things go. I hated inequity. I hated cruelty and I hated disrespect. All of which I'm certain I participated in. But that didn't stop me from tearing into people for it. During the meeting, my father made the statement:

"A chain is only as strong as it's weakest link."

My eldest sister turned to me and with absolute conviction said to me.

"That's you."

That was rough. I loved my sister. I loved all of my family and I'd never do anything to willing hurt them. But the truth was I had always felt like that was true anyway. So to hear it verbally spoken was devastating. Not many people can relate to the story of Gideon. I do. I come from a broken family. I am the weakest in my household.

By the time I got saved, I was jaded to put it lightly. I've spent the last four years trying to peel back the layers of my own insecurities. Desperately trying to find the wicked black root of my own pride. Trying to figure out exactly what put that chip on my shoulder that causes me to react violently to the world around me. Each time I've been able to deal with a chunk of it, it has taken the voice of a friend to do so. Someone who I both respect and I know respects me to take me aside and say "Hey, let me tell you from the heart what I'm seeing." The insight from them has been beyond value.

Something that's really bothered me lately though is how rare those occurrences are.

More than once I've been talking to someone and said something stupid or something arrogant and instead of receiving correction the person has flat out cut me down. It didn't feel real loving. It certainly didn't correct me. But it sure hurt like hell. Like... how long has you thought that about me? Why have you never said something. Why would you act like there isn't something wrong and then flip a chicken on my suddenly? What happened to edify your brothers and sister? Why don't we do that?

Don't get me wrong though, it ain't like I've never been corrected before. I am so utterly thankful to my friends and pastors who have been man or women enough to take me aside and tell me how it is. In fact three of the greatest men I know, Pastor Adam Washburn, Sean Gleasn, and Jordan Shaw have all at some time or another been man enough and respect me enough to take me aside and tell me straight up I'm being prideful.

Even still, I've got to evaluate myself. Am I man enough to do the same thing for people? I remember recently talking with one of my best friends Alex Maras and he said something that annoyed the crap out of me because I had a problem with his character and whatever he said totally reenforced what bothered me. So I cut him down. I said something sharp, it wasn't really mean. But it wasn't kind. HOW DARE I. HOW FREAKIN DARE I. That's my brother. Like not the the cute christian way or the crappy "thats my bro" way. I mean that we have bled together. We've cried together. We've gone a long way through this life together and damnit he deserves a little more respect than that.

We all do. We walk in the presence of heirs to the throne. Every day. Anointed priests and Kings. How terribly disrespectful of us to just cut them down. Shouldn't our priority, if we see something wrong, be to correct it? Why do we have to assume the person WANTS to be that way. And you know honestly, I think that's being nice. To say we "assume the person wants to be that way". Nah, we know they don't. But we don't care. That's their weakness. It justifies every negative thing we think about that person. Every slight they've made. Every er. That weakness makes them weak. We like that. What an injustice. Father I repent.

Lord, help me to have the same respect you have for me, for others. Help me to have the guts to address the hard issues. To love someone enough that when I see weakness in them, I make it my mission to build it up. To cover it. I repent of my selfish and wicked motivations that have caused me to leave many in the body weak. Give me life enough to share and love enough for all.