Miserable But Eventually, Hopefully Free
Have you ever read something that hit so close to home that it was unnerving? That's how I felt a week ago while reading about Enneagram personality types in a book called The Road Back to You. I got to the chapter type nine and I felt like someone had been reading my mail. It bordered on freaky because it was illuminating a lot that goes on inside my head and how I have interacted with people my entire life. After the initial weirdness, I became excited. This would help me grow as a person. Learning this information was awesome.
It has not been awesome. Not yet. After that initial burst of self-discovery, it has put me in a existential funk. I see the shadow side of my personality wherever I go. I see mistakes I have made in the past that became patterns. Type 9 puts a lot of effort in maintaining equilibrium between internal struggles and external circumstances; they don't want their internal calm to be disturbed. That perfectly describes me and, as the book says, that practice is exhausting. I am more aware of everything and it's absolutely overwhelming. I think this knowledge is going to help, but it's obvious there is going to be this precarious adjustment period to the truth.
In his book Falling Upward, the Franciscan friar Richard Rohr comments, "Before the truth 'sets you free,' it tends to make you miserable."
I have been thinking about that quote a lot lately. I feel it. I feel it in seeing the patterns of my life, of coping behaviors that I use to preserve this internal calm. We like to think we are the heroes of our own story, so it stings when we see the flaws in our character.
I feel it in how the election season fully pulled back the curtain on the unhealthy relationship between the church tradition of my youth and political power. I long suspected this, but such an extreme outcome brought the truth into stark light. I have watched Christians ignore lies and tap dance around hatred like Fred Astaire. It's good that I have seen that and lost my naiveté, but it has still hurt like Hades.
I feel it as I have watched friends back in South Carolina go through an unbearably difficult season in which they have lost a home for their faith community. My heart hurts for the tears of children that I have taught in VBS, for close friends experiencing traumatic deja vu, for good people wondering what happens next. I moved in the fall praying that things would get better and the truth is it did not.
The truth can make you miserable.
If I don't distract myself, I feel all of these truths and others like a hole in my heart. If I am not careful, it can flood my systems into a morass of despair. But then I call to mind that the misery of truth is only the first part. After the truth drags you through the mud, it then emancipates you. Unfortunately, there is not a hard and fast time limit to how long you feel miserable. I wish I could say it had a 30 day expiration date. But somewhere down the line, there is freedom. There is freedom that would not have been otherwise known if you had not trudged through the difficult truth.
In Matthew 11:28-29, Jesus said, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." I admit the language of a yoke seems contradictory to the idea of freedom. But for myself and those who are bearing the weight of various truths, I pray that God would take up those burdens. That after any misery and difficulty, you will find rest for your soul.
The truth will eventually set you free. I hope this. I will hold on to this. So for those who are going wading through the difficult truths whether it be something about you, the world, dealing with the complexities of faith, or a horrible situation, hold on. And let others know when you need help holding on. There will be freedom and rest.
