All posts tagged Pride

The Twin Obstacles to Generosity

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“For many of us the great obstacle to charity lies not in our luxurious living or desire for more money, but in our fear—fear of insecurity. This must often be recognized as a temptation. Sometimes our pride also hinders our charity; we are tempted to spend more than we ought on the showy forms of generosity (tipping, hospitality) and less than we ought on those who really need our help (p. 86-7).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

It is easy to think of the obstacle to generosity as the absence of thinking of others. We like to think of it this way because it makes our lack of generosity seem more innocent. We become like the child who knew he was to clean his room or complete his homework and is called on it. We reply, “I forgot,” hoping this will somehow make our neglect seem more neutral.

But absence is a non-entity and, therefore, cannot be an obstacle. By definition an obstacle must be a thing; not a non-thing. Lewis points out that there are two “things” that impede our lack of generosity: fear (namely insecurity) or pride.

The first part of becoming generous is to have the courage (if we are fearful) or humility (if we are prideful) to ask the question, “Which am I?” The same character deficiency which impedes our generosity will also impede our willingness to acknowledge our lack of generosity. This is why honestly asking good questions is vital to the change process.

Usually the lack of generosity rooted in fear does see the needs of others and is concerned about those needs. However, shortly after feeling compelled to be generous, they begin to consider the cost. “If I give [blank] to them, then I would not be able to handle it if something happened to me.”

The insecure person lives in a world where it is assumed that everyone else shares the same insecurity. Generosity is not assumed (believed to be available for their time of need “if” it were to arise) because fear reigns.

The lack of generosity rooted in pride either does not see the need because of its self-centeredness or condemns the needy person for not having prepared like they did. Self-centered blindness obviously prevents generosity. Condemning makes generosity seem like a reward for laziness.

The prideful person lives in a world where it is assumed that everyone else should share the same approach to life they have. Generosity is not assumed (a natural response to the ability and opportunity to help) because they are the standard and they do not practice it.

We see in this reflection that generosity is about more than giving something away. Generosity transforms our experience of community. This is consistent with the book of Acts. The early Christians were generous so / because they were experiencing a new form of community.

Our goal in being generous is not to win more points with God, but to allow the Gospel to penetrate our assumptions about life in a new way. God is not punishing us or taxing us with his call to generosity. Rather, He is continuing the work He began when we first experienced the Gospel – freeing us from ourselves. The bars of that self-bondage may be fear or pride.

If this post was beneficial for you, then considering reading other blogs from my “Favorite Posts on Finances” post which address other facets of this subject.

Self-Awareness: A Key Difference between Hypocrisy &a Hard Heart

Have you ever wondered what the difference is between being a hypocrite and having a hard heart?  Maybe I’m the only one. But I think it is a useful thought to explore. Depravity can come in different degrees (i.e., expressions, depths) even if it is “total.”

I believe these considerations will help us guard our own hearts from sin and more skillfully love those caught in their sin. Too often we just call bad, bad and think we have done our job. If we are going to be effective physicians of the soul, we must know the ailments of the soul particularly.

I would propose that one key difference between being a hypocrite and having a hard heart is the level of self-awareness the individual has about his/her sin.

  • A hypocrite is self-aware. He knows that he is not what he claims to be or is not doing what he expects other people to do.
  • A hard-hearted person is not self-aware. He is blind to the wrongness of his actions. His heart has lost the sensitivity to discern good from evil, truth from lie in the area of his particular sin.

Which is worse? I would contend that having a hard heart is worse than being a hypocrite. As a hypocrite, I would still be agreeing with God’s law regarding my sin. I still advocate for others to follow God’s law and feel some form of offense when God’s law is broken. Unfortunately, my self-centeredness would only allow me to detect when the violation of God’s law hampers my preferences.

As a hard-hearted person, I would both defend my sin and advocate for the freedom of others to behave (not that sin should be reduce

d simply to behavior) in a similar manner. I have reached the point that I have renamed bad, “good.” I must not only be given eyes to see my own behavior, but I must (before that) have my conscience enlivened to accept God’s truth.

What are some implications from this consideration?

  1. When we interact with someone who is continuing in a particular sin we should seek to discern if they are under conviction (neither hypocritical nor hard-hearted), self-aware but in denial (being hypocritical), or not acknowledging the truth at all (hard-hearted).
  2. We then respond to this person on the basis of their self-awareness.
    1. For the hard-hearted person we can only pray that God will change their heart and avoid as much personal/relational damage as possible (Matt. 7:6).
    2. For the hypocrite we can appeal to the part of their conscience that is active and seek to help them come under complete conviction.
    3. For the person under conviction (and really for them only is it wise/effective to) we remind them of God’s grace to forgive and the guidance of His Word to restore them.
  3. We recognize that a failure to change is not because we have not shared relevant, biblical information in a clear and compassionate way.

As for our own hearts, this reflection should cause us to be very cautious when we refuse the counsel of fellow believers and should urge us to live more transparently with our fellow believers as a protection of starting the hypocritical to hard-hearted slide.

If this post was beneficial for you, then considering reading other blogs from my “Favorite Posts on Counseling Theory” post which address other facets of this subject.

One Good Tennis Shot?

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“There is a difference between doing some particular just or temperate action and being a just or temperate man. Someone who is not a good tennis player may now and then make a good shot. What you mean by a good player is a man whose eye and muscles and nerves have been so trained by making innumerable good shots that they can now be relied on… In the same way a man who perseveres in doing just actions gets in the end a certain quality of character (p. 79-80).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

Have you ever known one of those people who loves to tell you about their great sports achievements in high school (or little league)? I’ll refrain from asking if you have ever been that person. Usually in the midst of an argument or after a significant failure we can become that person morally. We begin to want to talk about the really nice, sacrificial, gracious, and benevolent things we’ve done.

The most dangerous part of those conversations is not the pride or self-righteousness that is present (and they are present). The most dangerous thing is how we are beginning to think about “being good.” Suddenly, our righteousness has become the “once for all” achievement that transcends circumstances and trumps any failure.

Instead, it should be Christ’s righteousness that comes to mind when we fail. Christ’s righteousness is “once for all” achievement that transcends our circumstances and trumps our failures. But we do not access Christ’s righteousness by recounting our closest attempts at emulating it. We access Christ’s righteousness by humbly acknowledging when/how we fall short of it and our perpetual need for it.

The “skill” of Christian morality is not competitive (like tennis). It is not that there are certain actions, responses, concepts, skills, or verbiage that is mastered in order to make you “great.” Actually, that whole mindset is the antithesis of Christian morality and the Christian faith.

The “skill” of Christian morality is simply seeing how much I come short of Jesus (which implies having an accurate understanding of Jesus) and being consistently willing to acknowledge that short coming while continuing to love others without shame.

Too often we do not see, we do not acknowledge, we do not love, or, if we do all three, we shrink back in shame. Stated this way we see how hard it is to be “good;” not primarily because of a skill deficiency (to see, acknowledge, and love is not that complex) but because of a will deficiency.

I do not want to see how often I come short of Jesus (even though it is clear). I do not want to acknowledge when I have fallen short (even though I know it is the best way to restore peace). I do not want to continue to love others after I have fallen short (even though I know to do otherwise is to compound my failure). My lack of desire only serves to fuel my shame (and defensiveness) after I failed.

With this in mind, we can now understand why reciting our moral achievements does nothing to help us be an agent of peace in an argument or to assuage our guilt after a failure. We have become like a golfer who is offended by a negative score (being “under par” is a very good thing… my fellow non-golfers might not know that).

Our strength (the training of our eyes, muscles, and nerves as Lewis would say) is in the promptness with which we acknowledge our need for Christ and the Gospel. This allows us to begin recalling His greatness during our failures and become agents of peace in our relationships.

C.S. Lewis on the Gospel Paradox

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“There is a paradox. As long as Dick does not turn to God, he thinks his niceness is his own, and just as long as he thinks that, it is not his own. It is when Dick realizes that his niceness is not his own but a gift from God, and when he offers it back to God – it is just then that it begins to be really his own… The only things we can keep are the things we freely give to God. What we try to keep for ourselves is just what we are sure to lose (p. 213).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

Pick your greatest strength or personal asset: being nice (as Lewis refers to), intelligence, work ethic, organization, charisma, music ability, athleticism, etc… Place that thing in Lewis’ quote above in order to feel the appropriate sense of discomfort.

Chances are your response is like mine – that is mine (possession) or that is who I am (identity). Lewis says as soon as I think that way I’m wrong – I’ve lost what was given to me by God. How does that work?

What it can’t mean is that the attribute evaporates as soon as I take credit for it. Hard working people don’t cease to be hard working people because they take pride in being better than people who don’t work as hard. If anything, their pride leads them to work harder to maintain their identity.

Two things happen which make their strength “less their own.”

First, they lose the “credit” for their strength before God. When a personal characteristic becomes corrupted by pride no longer does God look upon that “strength” with favor. God does not love us like an employer loves an employee, but like a father loves a son.

An employer looks at the productivity to determine his/her opinion of an employee. The more an employee advances that company or increases the profit margin the more pleased the employer is. It doesn’t matter to an employer if the employee is motivated by fear, pride, greed, or benevolence.

A good father looks at what is best for the son/daughter and determines whether something is good on the basis of their overall well-being. A child can be excelling in a way that is exhausting or compromising his/her character and “winning” will not be seen as good.

That is why when we fail to offer our strengths (and for that matter our weaknesses) to God, He does not count that strengths as “credits” to our account. God sees the pride or false identity in our life and is right to warn of impending danger. That leads to the second thing that happens.

Second, their strength mutates from a blessing to a master – they belong to their strength instead of their strength belonging to them. When we fail to recognize our strength as coming from God, we begin to rely upon our strength for more than it can give.

Either we pridefully believe our strength is what makes us “good” and we judge those who are not good (by the standard of our strength), or we fearfully live with thoughts that we will not be able to continually live up to previous levels of “good.” Either way, we begin to belong to our strength instead of our strength belonging to us.

What is the alternative? It is giving our strength to God in recognition that it came from Him and receiving Christ’s righteousness through the forgiveness of our sins as what makes us “good enough.” When this happens our natural strengths can be restored and used for the purpose God originally gave them to us. They are ours because we are His.

To see the first 100 posts in this series click here.

C.S. Lewis’ Portrait of Humility

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all (p. 128).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

This is my favorite description of humility, because it takes the focus off of humility; which is what I think humility would want if you asked it. When I finish reading the quote, humility feels like freedom more than a standard to achieve.

Yet there is great practicality in the description. A baseline question for determining humility is, “How well do I listen to others?” Listening is an action that bestows honor on others without sacrificing personal dignity or enjoyment.

I think most people get this instinctually. When we are around someone we highly esteem and they ask us a question, we feel honored. We think more fondly of them because they would be interested in our thoughts on the subject. We simultaneously admire their humility and awe at their strength.

Which is why I find it odd that I so naturally thought of humility in the ways in which Lewis caricaturized it. I thought of humility as weakly avoiding eye contact while deferring every compliment and downplaying every accomplishment. I would have never taught it that way but I did “see” it that way.

Part of that is undoubtedly the distortion of my sinful nature. The corruption of my heart would never define something as wholesome and life giving as humility in an appealing way. Culturally, I think this is why so many people who say they want a “high self-esteem” would rather have the “freedom of humility” if they tasted both.

The question becomes what frees me from listening with genuine interest in others (a mark of true humility) rather than listening through the lens of insecurity (pride in its fearful form)? The answer is simply when someone gracious, dependable, and with a heart for the world has become the most important person in my life—namely, God.

In order to be humble the most important person in my life must be gracious. I will fail many times. After all, “nobody’s perfect.” Unless the most important person in my world is gracious, my failures (shame, anger, or blame-shifting) will kill humility.

In order to be humble the most important person in my life must be dependable. Life changes. After all, “nothing stays the same.” Unless the most important person in my world is dependable, anticipating the future (fear or greed) will kill humility.

In order to be humble the most important person in my life must have a heart for the world. I will imitate the most important person in my life. Therefore, unless the most important person in my world cares deeply for people I won’t either. In the end, Jesus is the embodiment of humility (Philippians 2:1-11) and the key to my humility.

C.S. Lewis on The Devil’s Cure

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“The devil loves ‘curing’ a small fault by giving you a great one (p. 127).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

It is easy to think that moving away from a problem is the same as moving towards something better. But this is the lie behind most of life’s devastating sins. No one runs face first into addiction. They run looking over their shoulder at a lesser problem and into the arms of addiction. Bankruptcy is what happens when you solve every problem (focal point) with your debt (blind spot).

It is easy to think that everyone who sympathizes with your problem is your friend. But this false assumption is the foundation for every scam. A drug dealer needing to make a sale will listen to your problems in order to pitch his “solution.” Sexual predators specialize in listening to hurting kids on social media to serve as an inroad to their trust.

This does not mean that all sympathy is dangerous or that progress is always a mirage. It does mean that our ability to change for the better is hampered when we focus exclusively on our struggle. When we focus on our struggle, even if we are disgusted by it, we get the false notion that different is the same as better.

When you focus on how dumb you are everyone else becomes smart. When you focus on how weak you are everyone else becomes strong. The problem is when you try to apply “their” wisdom, there is a strong probability it will fail and when you try to rely on “their” strength, it will let you down. By focusing upon faults we never gain an appreciation for what is truly wise, strong, and good.

Not only does Satan love to cure small faults with big ones (goal), he seals the deal by getting us lost in our faults (method). This is an ingenious way to blind those who can see. If Satan can get us to look for the wrong thing with great intensity, then we will miss, ignore, or reject the right thing even when we look right at it.

What do I mean? If Satan can get us so focused on our faults that we fail to look at Christ, then we are functionally blind to the wisdom, cure, strength, and hope we need. When we focus on our faults we feel dirty when we look at Christ instead of realizing He will cleanse us. When we focus on our faults we feel stupid when we look at Christ instead of realizing He offers wisdom.

It is by focusing us on our faults that Satan blinds our seeing eyes to true hope and, thereby, makes “greater faults” seem like the only “solution” available. Each time we apply Satan’s solutions we feel more stupid (retrospect proves we can see) and are more prone to use the next “desperate measure.” We feel more dirty and less apt to approach anything clean or pure.

So what do we do? We stop and look to Christ. We gaze at life itself. We marvel at life lived as God intended. We begin to live towards something instead of just away from our faults. We repent of our faults and accept that hope can only be received, not earned.

When this is done, greater faults and false compassion lose their appeal. Our vision is restored. While we may still fall many times, we fall forward towards Christ. We realize we repent instead of making “double or nothing” deals with life. We take sin more seriously but less frantically so that we resist Satan’s offer to exchange small faults with great ones.

C.S. Lewis on Self-Respect and Devil’s Laughter

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“[Pride] is purely spiritual: consequently it is far more subtle and deadly. For the same reason, Pride can often be used to beat down the simpler vices. Teachers, in fact, often appeal to a boy’s Pride, or, as they call it, his self-respect, to make him behave decently: many a man has overcome cowardice, or lust, or ill-temper, by learning to think that they are beneath his dignity—that is, by Pride. The devil laughs. He is perfectly content to see you becoming chaste and brave and self-controlled provided, all the time, he is setting up in you the Dictatorship of Pride. (p. 125).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

I think this quote boils down to trying to understand with what’s so wrong with thinking that sin is “beneath me”? If someone is “pro-pride,” they probably aren’t reading this reflection. Few people have a problem with acknowledging that Satan would love to see us lay down a less destruction sin for a more destructive one.

So the point that makes this quote uncomfortable is that Lewis depicts it as Satan’s ultimate setup to get me to view sin as “beneath me.” I find myself internally torn on this one. My gut doesn’t automatically go where Lewis goes, but I agree with the point he’s making. I have given myself the “you’re better than that” pep talk to avoid sin.

As I wrestle with Lewis’ warning about pride, I realize there is a better pep talk to give (and receive). It is the “that is not who you are” talk. The first pep talk was focused on rank and status – better than. The latter is based on identity.

The difference, as I think Lewis would affirm, is that Jesus did not come to make much of me (rank and status) but to reside in me and adopt me (change my identity and name). When I get this I realize sin is not “beneath me” it is “outside of me.” I was born “in sin” and now I am “in Christ.”

The reason that sin is resisted has less to do with my dignity and everything to do with His. If I begin to think about my dignity, Satan has half the battle won. I am comparing sin to me. Sin does not appear nearly as sinful when I compare it with my nature.

The more I marvel at my nature, the dingier my nature becomes and the less I am looking to Christ as my righteousness. Disdain for every sin that is not actively relying upon Christ is the epitome of being a Pharisee—loving the laws that make me look good, because they make me look good and give me status.

If I were to summarize Lewis’s point and application, it would be: If Satan cannot get us to love self by sinning, then he is content to get us to love self by feeling superior to sin. God calls us to find life by denying self and, thereby, experiencing the freedom God intended.

An example might be helpful. Lewis says we can overcome cowardice by pride and this would be a bad thing. The problem would be that you would have to convince yourself you are “above” what you fear. If you fear rejection, then “it wouldn’t matter what people say.” This has the strong potential of giving us deaf ears to important messages of critique.

However, if what people say matters but does not define who I am, then I can be steadfast without the deafening influence of pride. I could face my fear as real, learning from my fear and the words of critique, without having to condemn myself or those who raise questions. That is the freedom of humility.

C.S. Lewis’ Cure for Pride: Part 1

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone (p. 122).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

My first fear as I read this quote is, “Could I keep my level of motivation if I lost the drive of competition?” For as long as I can remember I have used competition in order to spur me on. I see people who do great things (athletically, academically, or spiritually) and I am challenged to be where they are; energy grows within me as I see someone ahead of me.

As I listen to myself I am taken to Hebrews 10:24, “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works.” Have I misused competition as a sinful application of this verse? Or, have I rightly applied this verse and just used a bad word to describe what was happening?

Competition as Sinful Application

I think the answer is both. There are times when I have wanted to overtake (get ahead of) the one I perceive to be in front of me. The tone of my heart is, “They must decrease (at least by one spot) to make room for me, so I can increase.”

In these cases I want to win. Pride is crouching at my door (Gen. 4:7) and I am welcoming it into my living room so I can use it as a spiritual-steroid. Just like in the Olympics, I become a disqualified contestant in God’s race of faith because I am using the performance-enhancing drug of sin (1 Cor. 9:24).

In these cases even my effectiveness only accelerates my soul rot. I begin to see pride as my “friend” because it helped me “win” and am able to justify it because it was “for God” (such an oxymoron when it comes to sin of pride). Next time I am prone to call my “friend” pride to come help, instead of competitive pride having to crouch at the door and ask to be let in.

Right Action; Wrong Word

There are other times when I think what I am calling competition is merely swept up in the current of another person’s example of excellence. Instead of crying out, “They must decrease so I can increase,” my heart says, “I love where they’re going and want to go there with them.”

In this case I think I am following the relational dynamic recommended by Paul in I Corinthians 11:1, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” The key word that changes everything is “with” instead of “ahead.”

One is built upon a pure desire for mutual progress (with) which is enthused for the example to charge ahead to blaze the trail for me and others. The other is built upon rank (ahead) which wants to see the example fade and treats “others” who may rise up as only “new competition.”

Conclusion

As in all cases of questions asked of the human heart, I find my motives to be neither all bad nor all good. I cannot justify myself even in my “best” (especially in terms of “rank”) actions (Isa. 64:6). But as I see my heart more clearly by the light of God grace, I am freed from the sin of competitive pride, because I realize the prize I was striving for is received, not won.

C.S. Lewis’ Pride Evaluation Question

A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

“If you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, ‘How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronize me, or show off?’ The point is that each person’s pride is in competition with every one else’s pride (p. 122).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

I think it would be wrong to take from Lewis’ question that one should like being snubbed, ignored, or patronized. There is a healthy level of wanting to steward the voice, talents, and life God has given you that should make these experiences unpleasant to everyone.

Lewis’ question is based upon “how much” we dislike these experiences. Do we walk away disappointed that we did not get to serve in the ways God gifted us or do we replay the offense in our mind for the better part of a week? Do we mourn the immaturity of a companion who would patronize another, or do we internally rage that our “honor” was besmirched?

As I try to think through Lewis’ question, I believe it implies a preliminary question, “Do I have enough of a sense of God’s calling and gifting in my life that I crave to make an impact for God’s kingdom on the world around me?” If so, then I will be bothered when the sin or immaturity of others detracts from those opportunities.

However, if that sense of being bothered is “too much,” then it is a strong indication that the kingdom for which I am trying to make an impact is my own instead of God’s (i.e., pride).When I am advancing God’s kingdom, I realize that others being inconsiderate does little to stop the tides of redemptive history. Their actions are like a heckler at a NASCAR race telling the drivers they’re slow; annoying, but inconsequential in the outcome of the race.

So what should an appropriate level of “dislike” be? I think it should be in the range of disappointment—an emotion from which we learn, make minor modifications as possible, and move on. If I miss an opportunity to express God’s gifts because of the rudeness or ignorance of another, I think it is right (morally before God, not just “personal rights”) to be disappointed.

How should I respond to such a disappointment? Learn what I can about how to live more effectively in a broken world with my fellow fallen people. Exert whatever influence can still be beneficial in the original situation. Then move on expecting that God is still active and His purposes will not be thwarted by any human shenanigans.

But how do I recapture the opportunity that was lost? Answer: By responding in a way that makes God’s character known in light of the offense. Humility allows me to see that the opportunity to advance God’s kingdom was not taken away, but transformed. Pride is so committed to magnifying God in its strengths that it missed the opportunity to magnify God in its weakness.

So as I think through Lewis’ question and try to determine, “How bothered is so bothered that it is personal pride rather than godly mission?” The best answer I can create is that offense becomes pride when it distracts me from the next opportunity to serve God, especially with the one who offended me. It is pride that blinds me and humility that gives me eyes to see.

The Ultimate Scary Movie

I have periodic nightmares of various kinds. They can involve pirates and adventures gone awry at sea or losing a member of my family. I am not sure what causes them. My television viewing is largely restricted to sports, news, cooking shows, cartoons (for the kids, of course), or shows with talking animals (I’m a sucker for Narnia and Aflac commercials).

Recently I had one where I was being chased by a serial killer. It was eerily like the stupid movies I’ve seen commercials for. I was running and running through this old house to get away. After much effort (my wife says I didn’t wake her up), I was out of the house. Then I went back in the house to use the restroom.

The real me was screaming at the dream me, “Don’t be stupid!” But dream me didn’t listen. As I walk through the house (no longer running or fearful) looking for the restroom, from out of nowhere a butcher knife takes a hack at me. I spent the rest of the dream keeping the blade away from my neck.

When I woke up strangling my pillow, my heart was racing and I had time to think. I don’t have the spiritual gift of dream interpretation, but as I thought of how foolish it was to walk back into the house, I had a thought – that is how foolish it is for me to sin in private.

Any time we sin and fail to confess to those that God would use to point us back in the right direction (Heb 3:12-13), we are like dream me walking back into the house with the mass murderer (1 Pet. 5:8). It was a picture that resonated with me. Rarely had I viewed sin in that fashion.

If I were advising dream me, I would have said, “Run like the dickens (in my dreams the main character usually has a strong country accent) to the first phone that you can find with the line not cut and call 9-1-1.” Why would I treat sin any differently?

Is it macho pride because I want to show that I can handle it?

Is it twisted insecurity that values my reputation more than my life?

Is it immaturity that believes sin is “no big deal”?

Is it brute pleasure that enjoys the thrill?

What reason would I have accepted from dream me? Answer: none. There would be no reason that would justify wandering through a house with a mass murderer lurking to look for a rest room.

The next time that you struggle with sin and are hesitant to reach out to a Christian friend for accountability and encouragement, remember this post and don’t become “my dream come true.”