Honesty, refining, and shame

tem·per (v): improve the hardness and elasticity of (steel or other metal) by reheating and then cooling it.

We continue to shout our praise even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. (Romans 5:3-4, The Message)

by Matt Krieg

​Since my confession, all of my difficulties have not disappeared, but there is no doubt that the tempering in the Refiner’s fire has helped more than it has burned.

For the entirety of our marriage, I have felt like I played second fiddle to Laurie. Wherever we went, it seemed like she was immediately recognized as beautiful, talented, and engaging. People we met were first drawn to her natural grace. 

I felt like I was a tagalong to whom people said, “We tolerate you because we want to know Laurie.” It was not verbal, but I heard it all the same.

This bred resentment in me—not only toward Laurie, but toward myself and those who seemed to say it.  I desperately wanted to be known and to be seen as gifted and valuable.

This lie that I am “less-than” didn’t begin with my relationship to Laurie, however. I’ve written about how it started in junior high when I thought about killing myself every day for two years.

In order to uproot this “worthless” lie, however, I needed to face it. I needed to get honest with myself and God. That was the pre-step to talking honestly to Laurie. 

A big reason I avoided truth was because I was wearing shame. (Laurie wrote about shame last week.) I was ashamed of who I was, so I tried to feel value by engaging in a cheap relational imitation with pornography. But engaging only increased my shame and decreased genuine relationships with others.

​Shame beget shame, and it healed nothing.

Sandra Wilson defines shame in Shame Free Parenting as, "a soul-deep sense that there is something uniquely wrong with me that is not wrong with you or anyone else in the world. Because I am not perfect and problem-free, I feel hopelessly, disgustingly different and worth less than other people. I view myself as, literally, worthless. I isn't that I make a mistake when I make a mistake; I am a mistake when I make a mistake. This is Shame's message."

No one knew of my sin, but I knew. The enemy knew, too. And so every chance he got, he showed me my sin, shoved my face in it, and thereby solidified that sense of worthlessness. “You are worthless. Look at you,” I heard. I easily agreed. “You’re right. I am worthless.”

If only I had opened up my hands and honestly said, “God, help. I can’t do this on my own,” instead of imploding and living the cycle of shame, I would have found freedom so much more quickly. When I finally did, it was as the David says when he confessed. 

"When I refused to confess my sin,
    my body wasted away,
    and I groaned all day long.
Day and night your hand of discipline was heavy on me.
    My strength evaporated like water in the summer heat. Interlude
Finally, I confessed all my sins to you
    and stopped trying to hide my guilt.
I said to myself, 'I will confess my rebellion to the Lord.'
    And you forgave me! All my guilt is gone." --Psalm 32:2-5

I am still choosing this life of honesty. Not with confessing pornography (because, praise God, I have not had anything to confess), but confessing the lies I believe even before I choose that dysfunctional behavior.

An example of this happened a few weeks ago. Without directly saying it, I heard someone say, “Matt what you can speak into my life is not worth what Laurie can speak into my life.” The worthless lie tapped on my shoulder.

But a beautiful thing happened. Instead of believing the lie that I am worthless and allowing shame to breed shameful activities, I turned to Jesus even while talking to this person.

In my heart I looked to God and asked, “Jesus please help me. I can’t finish this conversation without you.” 

Praise God, the Holy Spirit began ministering to me in the midst of my turmoil. I pushed into the pain, and allowed the best Counselor to speak truth into my heart in the moment. I heard love. I heard affirmation. I heard what I needed to hear from the One who could offer me true worth.

After that difficult conversation, I opened up to Laurie about what happened. She did not condemn me; she genuinely looked at me with pride. “I’m incredibly proud of you Matt. You have grown so much.” She talked about how I did not give up in the moment, but I allowed the storm of refining to do its work on my heart. “I don’t know too many people who lean into pain.”

God has been tempering me like metal in a furnace. I am stronger than I was, and I’m profoundly grateful.  

I know that in this battle I will be injured, but instead of hide the wound from myself, God, and others, I need to open up in honesty, and allow them to be both the Refiner and iron to sharpen this iron. 

As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend.--Proverbs 27:17

For you, God, tested us; you refined us like silver.--Psalm 66:10
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He will sit like a refiner of silver, burning away the dross. He will purify the Levites, refining them like gold and silver, so that they may once again offer acceptable sacrifices to the LORD.--Malachai 3:3