The labor of self-criticism and self-correction.

Quite a fight.

Everyone at some point wants a life changed or improved. Probably a bad part. Sometimes, it’s making a good part better. It’s that thing about me that I want to change most, but fear acknowledging. The elephant in my room; more likely, my closet.

There’s something to that. Be it good, bad, or indifferent. My life continues. However, in taking on a self-criticism, I’m experiencing a different kind of living these days. What used to be a patterned response is no longer, in this season. What takes it’s place these days, for me, is an overwhelming sense of just how many hours are in a day, and how many opportunities I have to respond to and nurture my soul.

When God is seen gracious and this self-criticism is held to the truth, good things happen. It doesn’t lead to anger, self-pity and entitlement.

Don’t let that sound mightier than it is – this is only done in the context of community and love of others. I can’t do it.

When I’m not bound by my fear, my shame, my addictive nature, a veil of self-loathing, I experience freedom to be the friend I’ve always wanted to be. I’m an adult. I look longer. I have different vision. I’m thinking less about how others perceive me, and more about loving those around me well.

And the experience of change brings with it a desire to change further. Seems a bit cyclical. Thanks to God for the gift of desire, and the help to spend it well.