False Truth

I have questions that burn holes in my mind and my heart. Painful, angst-ridden questions that seem to come straight from the mouth of the child-version of myself living within. Throughout my journey, these questions war with my certainty and quietly wrestle Truth. They seem unquenchable in their hunger. Why did that happen? Is God really just? Does He truly care for me? Like molten metal they burn their painful holes through my life, leaving charred reminders of lessons-wrongly-learned that never seem to elude me.

What do I mean by lessons-wrongly-learned?

I mean those significant moments in life where the innermost questions of our being are (seemingly) answered with a truth unbearable and then all of life seems to confirm the reality. Questions surrounding our worth, the justice of God, our dreams and hopes.
Life deals a blow and we accept it as an answer. A proof that we are not good enough, that God does not truly care. That life will never be what we dream it to be.

The trauma inflicted by believing these false-truths can be ongoing. We can even know we are believing a lie but still, our mind, our memories and our emotions tug at our sense of truth. It must be true! We tell ourselves, or why else did this happen? I often wonder how much of my suffering is a result of believing a lie.

These days I am learning to recognise the heavy drag of a false-truth within. Lies deplete and they bind. They steal your energy, your hope and your worth. The truth, on the other hand, sets free. It is spirit and as such it is life-giving, hope-installing and redemptive in nature.

Sometimes the truth is quiet as a whisper. Sometimes it comes freely as a breeze, blowing away the lies. Other times it must be fought for and clung to like a life-raft on a storm-tossed sea.

'Show me Your ways, O Lord;

Teach me Your paths.

Lead me in Your truth and teach me,

For You are the God of my salvation;

On You I wait all the day.'

Psalm 25:4,5