I was sucked into this crime, after finding a yellow smiley-faced pencil sharpener, during the daily classroom 'pack up'. I had always wanted a pencil sharpener that caught the shavings without the hassle of walking to the bin. I looked around at my otherwise occupied peers, picked it up and hid it in my pencil case. That afternoon I told my parents that I had been awarded the pencil sharpener.
It took me one and a half years to finally confess to my crime. I tearfully admitted my actions to my stunned parents, after feeling terribly convicted at Sunday school. They took it well. In fact, I think they laughed about it when I wasn't around.
My lie obviously didn't affect anyone other than myself. No one got hurt, no relationship was harmed, and I managed to get over it. However, it took me 547 days to come clean and admit to my petty actions. It was like living with an unnecessary pebble in my shoe. I could manage walking with it, but I couldn't pretend it wasn't there.
Melting the ice
I'm fearful and anxious. I've been hurt and I've hurt others. I've been jealous and angry. I've been disappointed and heartbroken. However I have never been completely honest about any of those feelings. In fact I have skilfully mastered the ability to hide my feelings under a veil of lies. The most common lies I use to cover up things are, "I'm fine" and "It's all good".
Avoiding the truth is like freezing a Mentos into an ice cube. When you initially place the ice cube into a glass of coke it would seem fine. But give it a few minutes, the ice will melt and the drink will explode. You can't hide Mentos under a veil of ice and expect it to remain inactive when placing it into a glass of coke.
This illustrates any relationship. When I hide my true feelings under lies, I cannot expect them to remain inactive. The longer the relationship, the more likely it will react and burst.
The truth hurts
Someone once calculated that every person tells at least 200 lies a day. I honestly didn't believe I was capable of all 200, until I realised I was lying to myself (please excuse the pun). Dishonesty includes the times when I avoid telling my colleagues what I did on Sunday. Dishonestly occurs when I avoid confronting my feelings with a close friend, out of the fear of losing them. It's the little lies such as, "I can't tell Mary I don't want to go to the movies with her; it might hurt her feelings" to the deeper ones such as, "I can't admit I'm angry, because Christians are always supposed to be in control".
If telling the truth was easy, then I'd be the queen of saying it straight. However there is the fear of honest refusals, which makes it more appealing to agree with something I dislike. It would be easier to be honest if there was no risk of the other person being honest back. It's like throwing a punch and having to be punched back. Not only do you hurt your hand but your face also bears the brunt of receiving it.
For that reason Christians seem to successfully sidestep the truth. We dance around issues, in order to avoid treading on others feet. The common cover up is "God is love, so I will love them, by not telling them how I truly feel". But what really is the point of living a Christian life, if I can't even get honest about them? It's a mistake to think that dishonesty will win people into the kingdom. In fact, it's so deceitful and manipulative, that it would make anyone run in the opposite direction.
My pain illuminates his faithfulness
I recently "got honest" with a good friend of mine. We listened to one another and said everything I hope we needed to say. Before then I had been too afraid to speak the truth in fear of losing the friendship. I suppose I cared about the relationship enough that the pain didn't seem worth it. Even so, I couldn't expect my feelings to remain inactive and so it was such a relief to finally let go of what I had been holding on too. I found the experience humbling; but I won't hide the fact that I had to grieve over the truth.
God definitely blessed that. He is so faithful and the fact there is nothing I can hide from him further illuminates his faithfulness. He chooses to share in the weight of my hurt and grief. His gift of peace is worth so much more than the initial pain of being honest.
God desires the truth. Not only because he is the truth, but because he wants his children to experience the satisfying joy, that comes from tasting the freedom that honesty brings.
I am ten million light years away from being an honest person. However, I know my journey can slowly begin by taking one pebble out of my shoe at a time.
Here goes the first: Dear Mrs Layton, I'm sorry I stole your pencil sharpener.
Elesha Edmonds is the proud owner of an eleven-year-old pet fish, a student loan and half a Communications degree. She uses writing as a method to tame her overactive imagination and ironically is studying to be a journalist.
Elesha Edmonds' previous articles may be viewed at
www.pressserviceinternational.org/elesha-edmonds.html