Layers of a Man- Part Two

Last week I shared how I had examined myself and discovered four distinct layers that defined me. They were my Façade, my Shame, my Wounds, and The Divine. I went through the first two of these, explaining how I spent years carefully crafting a façade of being intelligent and considerate, and I did so to cover my shameful behaviors of cheating at school and using women to satisfy my lust. I mentioned what a major milestone it was for me to finally break down the façade and reveal my shame, but the journey wasn’t over yet.

Wound)

What I still had to discover was that there was a reason for all that shameful behavior. Just as the façade was compensating for the shame, the shame was compensating for something else: my wounds.

I cheated as a reaction to being the stupidest child in my family. My siblings and I were all homeschooled, and academic intelligence was of utmost importance. Those who did poorly in their schoolwork were assigned to take over the chores of those who did well, doling out punishment and reward in one fell swoop. I yearned for the praise and respect of my parents, especially of my father. When I was incapable of getting it by honest academic achievement, I learned to get it by cheating instead.

I selfishly used women as a reaction to being repressed as a child. I remember being regularly struck by my mother as a punishment for not being able to play quietly enough. While she slept I was required to stay in the house and entertain myself in a way that was contained and non-intrusive, so as not to wake her. I would try my genuine best, but I was a boisterous boy, and without realizing it I would inevitably become too loud, and then I would turn to see her advancing on me with a raised fist. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t make myself “behave properly,” but then I discovered pornography and it gave me a way to express myself however I wanted, and so long as I kept it quiet, secret, and contained, everyone was happy with me.

Can you see the connection between these wounds and my shames and façades? I felt stupid, so I cheated, but then I covered it with false intelligence. I had to repress my natural behaviors to accommodate my mother, so I found a selfish and indulgent outlet, but then covered it with an exaggerated consideration for others.

Our shame is nothing more than a misguided attempt to cope with our wounds. It tries to alleviate our painful shortcomings, but tragically does so in a way that only reinforces them. Cheating gave me the appearance of high grades and pornography gave me the fantasy of a loving relationship, but I knew that they were both fake, which further confirmed to me that I wasn't intelligent or well-adjusted enough to handle the real things.

Divine)

The reason the wounds hurt me so much was because they cut at the truest part of me. They put me on such a long and misguided path because they made me forget who I really was. They made me forget my divine self.

The words of scripture tell us that each and every one of us is a special creation of God, a divine child of the most powerful being in the universe, and an heir to heaven through Christ. The words of scripture tell us that each one of us has been given unique virtues and gifts, things we didn’t do anything to earn, things that are just innate within us. These are the parts of us that overlap with God.

I've shared my facade, my shame, and my wounds, it only seems fair that now I get to share some of the most divine parts of my soul as well. This isn't boasting because these are the qualities I did absolutely nothing to obtain. They were given to me as a gift from God.

My wounds told me that I was stupid, but I actually do have a high intelligence. It may not be an intelligence suited for academic achievement, but it does make me curious and creative. I have always had a natural knack for creating new things, be it stories, programs, or essays. I can’t do everything that certain people can do, but I can do certain things that other people can’t.

My wounds also told me that I was selfish and unlovable, that my exuberance was a burden, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I have always been naturally cheerful and friendly, with a deep love of life. I am most typically happy, and I want to see everyone around me be happy as well. I have a deep passion for people and ideas, and I am blessed to be able to find the richness within them.

***

Building these layers of self took time, and taking them apart took time as well. I had to excavate them in the reverse order that they had laid themselves over my heart. I disclosed my shameful secrets some time before I was ready to disclose my deepest wounds, and I came to terms with my broken self before I was able to come to terms with myself when whole.

When I look at how far my life strayed from its origins, and how complicated a path it took to get there, I realize it could have only ever been brought back by a miracle. I didn’t fall into recovery, I was led to it. God was fighting for me the entire way. He kept coming after my heart until I finally surrendered, and then He showed me how to dig through all the false layers to reach my true core. And, honestly, we’re still widening that excavation outwards, but at least now I know what’s going on.

By Abe, Writing Team

Layers of Man- Part One

William Paul Young, author of The Shack, has pointed out that what most of us present to the world is nothing more than a façade, a carefully-constructed window dressing that shows us how we want to be seen, but which is far removed from who we actually are inside. John Eldredge, author of Wild at Heart, similarly described a false, outer self called the “poser,” and explained that its primary function is to protect an inner wound that we received in our past.

As I have examined my own life, I have found that this notion of multiple layers is certainly true of me. I became curious about this, and spent some time trying to identify and separate all the different parts within. It took some time to sort out, but when all was said and done, I had discovered four distinct layers:

• Façade

• Shame

• Wound

• Divine

What I found is that each of these layers is distinct from the others, yet there are through-lines that connect them all. Let us examine each in turn, considering the form that they took for me, and the story that binds them all together.

Façade)

For the longest time, I never allowed anyone to interact with the real me. They only ever knew a surface-level, carefully-doctored, phony personality that I made a conscious effort to maintain at all times. Like Adam and Eve, I was hiding who I was behind a fig leaf. A fig leaf that I hoped would make me likable to the people I wanted to like me.

There were two main components to my personal façade of choice: I went to great lengths to make myself appear extremely intelligent and incredibly nice. I wanted people to know that I knew things, and I would absolutely pretend to know more than I actually did. I would also defer my own opinions and feelings, keeping everyone else in a perpetual state of happiness and contentment no matter the personal cost.

Why did I fabricate these two qualities specifically? Because they were masking how woefully deficient I was in them naturally. Beneath my phony exterior, my greatest shames were how I cheated in school and selfishly used others to satisfy my lust. I pretended to be smart and considerate, because in reality I was a fraud and incredibly selfish. The more secret shame I had, the more I had to stretch the façade to cover it.

Shame)

When a person makes a decision to start living an authentic life, the first thing they typically bring to light is the naked shame that hides beneath the façade. That was certainly the case for me. If the façade was intended to attract the people that I wanted to like me, then the inner shame was all of the qualities that I felt would repulse those same people. As I mentioned, those qualities were cheating and selfishness.

For the cheating, I spent most of my school career cheating in every way that I could. Secret notes and abuses of teachers’ trust were my lifelines, and I used them even when they put me at great risk. I was caught a few times, but it all came to head when I was found out a couple years into college. An exam proctor had seen me using secret notes in the testing center and they gave me a zero on the test, messaged my professor, and made an appointment for me with a school counselor. I genuinely thought that I would try to lie my way out of it, try to explain how the proctor had made a mistake, or how I had innocently misunderstood the rules. I thought I would fight the accusation all the way up to the point that I sat down in front of the counselor, opened my mouth…and spoke my shame instead. There, for the first time, I peeled back the façade and admitted that the accusations were completely true. I said that I had cheated, and had done so for quite some time. That I had been cheating all the way. Shockingly, it was the most relief I had ever felt.

For selfishness, I have my addictions. Self-serving, compulsive behaviors based on getting instantaneous pleasure. Of all my addictions, lust has certainly brought me the most shame. I have been disgusted in how I use women for my own gratification, viewing pornography and typing away in chat rooms, taking all that they would give me until I was finally satisfied. Unlike the cheating, though, I was very good at covering my tracks in this area and was never caught. I maintained my double life without a hitch and never let the mask slip.

Until, one day, I did.

That day, I had had enough of the lies, and I wrote my wife a letter and left it on our doorstep. It disclosed exactly what was going on beneath the surface, and as soon as she read it my whole life fractured in a million ways. And yet, just as when I had disclosed my cheating, I was amazed to find myself filled with incredible peace. I had just revealed the worst things, and yet I had never felt so good.

***

After I had disclosed all of my shame I thought I had reached the true me, but in reality I was only halfway there. In this post, I covered my layers of façade and shame, next time I will delve still deeper into my wounds and the divine.

---

By Abe, Writing Team

A Boy Named Sue

On a recent road trip, I introduced my daughters to a couple of old-time country songs from my childhood. "A Boy Named Sue" by Johnny Cash and "Big Bad John" by Jimmy Dean. They're story songs and I learned to appreciate both in a new way that day.

The first is an irreverent, but solemn song about a man who hunted down the father that left him as a child after naming him Sue. A fight ensued when he finally caught up with his aged father. With the intent to kill, he attacked the man who'd given him the name that caused him so much pain. The old man fought back with surprising vigor. Eventually Sue overcame his father who, submitting to his fate asked, his son to consider his reasons.

Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough.
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along
…
Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do

But you oughtta thank me, before I die
For the gravel in your guts and the spit in the eye
Cause I'm the #$%! That named you Sue.

The second is a reverent song celebrating the life of a large, shy man who drifted into a mining town and quietly went to work. Rumors spread and his name was defiled. The other men had fun at John’s expense. Then one day, things changed in an event that would live forever in the hearts of the men he worked with.

Then came the day at the bottom of the mine
When a timber cracked and men started cryin'
Miners were prayin' and hearts beat fast
And everybody thought that they'd breathed their last.
'Cept John.

Through the dust and the smoke of this man-made hell
Walked a giant of a man that the miners knew well
Grabbed a saggin' timber, gave out with a groan
And like a giant Oak tree, he just stood there alone,
Big John

That night, every miner in that mine returned safely to their homes. All but one: Big John.

Later during the road trip, in a quiet moment, I couldn't help but to see God in those roles.

Like Sue’s pa, God gave me weaknesses to make me strong. I've hated Him for my weaknesses and I've wrestled with Him over their necessity and how to overcome them. At the end of the song, Sue choked up and called his opponent 'Pa!'. His Pa called him 'Son!'. And Sue went away with a different point of view. Today, I call God Pa and I see him as a young, vigorous, close friend.

Like the men around Big John, I've defiled God’s name, and I've even made fun. And yet, like Big John, God went quietly to his death to make me safe. And now, with new eyes, I consider the cross, wipe away a tear and with a halleluiah!, I spiritually embrace my Savior.

By Ty, Writing Team