The first thing is I fear is spiritual pride. I feel like I
will become self-righteous or others will see me as self-righteous when I tell
my testimony. That's why I like it when my parents tell the part of my
testimony of how I was in high school and earlier, so I don't have to. Part of
me wants to be treated and seen as the previous ACF coordinators, or alumni
that people keep on bringing up as men of faith who have led other men and
built them up. Maybe that's is my dream or calling, to be able to lead and
serve and care and guide and be accountable for other men of faith. I want to
be like them. This leads to the second thing, which is the fear of
expectations.
I fear that people after hearing my testimony will see me in
a different light, positively or negatively, instead of seeing me of how I am
currently and locally. I don't want to be someone I am not, someone whose
callings and growth are different from those of my past. I want to be just
Daniel Lee, the person these people currently know, the person who is currently
fit to serve and love and care and disciple and be accountable for right now.
Like shared in cell group, but sometimes I think others from my past can tell
my testimony better than I can, or be more honest about it. Both people who
have seen me at my best, serving and caring, and those who have seen me at my
worst, when I was depressed and "emo" and lashed out and hurt others,
or when I refused help out of my own pride of not to be pitied.
The third is natural. When I share my testimony, it will
also expose the ugliness of my own sin. As I tell my testimony, I can't help
but fear that my sins of jealousy, pride, idolatry, and hate come out. I have
to tell about how much I hated youth group, hated the young adults, hated not
having a fellowship that everyone else seems to have had, hated how my Washu
fellowship was immature, hated how there was a lack of elderly guidance, how
certain people have hurt me, and how I've hurt and betrayed and abandoned
others in my own depression and wickedness. I feel like there are way too many
negative elements in my testimony, instead of positive ones, and that weakens
my testimony. But I realize, there are people who can benefit from my
testimony. I've been there. I've done things I regret. I've almost committed
suicide, because of fellowship. I've been hurt by people. I've abandoned
people. I have failed the men of ACF at Washu, and all the younger folk who
looked up to me as a leader and role model. I have failed my leadership team. I
know what it is like to be pitied by the fellowship, that they only cared for
me because God tells them to and they have to because that's like a Christian.
But it was very hard for me then, and still hard now, to tell if they were
genuine and sincere, or only doing it because I got down on my knees and
begged, or alienated myself and ruthlessly pushed people away in a desperate
but silent cry of asking for help. In these moments I can't help but think
(now) that I was just testing God and fellowship. But now when I see people
doing the exact same things, having depressing thoughts in their minds and
really being mind-trapped by themselves, I can empathize. I've been down that
road. I can show them the light, but like myself, they will have to be the ones
to walk towards it. Only God and God alone can rescue them. No one else. At the
end of the day, they have to man up and say "God is enough for me."
Then God will come and deliver and reveal the fullness of His Love to them. I
know. I've been there. Guess who else has been there, in the pit of abandonment
and loneliness. Jesus.
The last one is that when I tell my testimony, my I feel
like my bitterness will come back. I fear that it never really has gone, that
I've only been suppressing it. It is the pain, the suffering, the heartache,
the bitterness, the hatred of people and God, it all floods back. One sister
called it having a splinter or piece of glass embedded into my flesh. Over time
I have gotten most of it out, but a tiny bit still remains. The skin has grown
over it, but from time to time it hurts and pierces the flesh when I move. To
remove it completely, one must cut open the flesh and dig out the last piece,
but it will hurt. That is what I fear, the pain and hurt rushing back from the
past. In cell group, they mentioned that there is still God's timing involved.
Maybe this will be the thorn in my side for the rest of my life, like with
Paul. It could be suffering in the name of Christ, or pressure that will help
me produce the purest of oil, my Gethsemane.
One of the burdens of the current ACF is openness and
vulnerability. We are afraid of sharing the ugliness in our lives, and when we
cannot do that, we close ourselves to the ugliness of others. Then we don't
have the church as God intended. Another is to forgive one another, and
especially forgiving ourselves. We have to admit our failures and sin against
others as wickedness, as evil, as our SIN (not just "brokenness").
Once we do that, we can then start to understand the Grace of God. He then can
break us of our pride and our past, and create anew a new person. He is
continuously cleansing us and restoring us and sanctifying us. Let us not follow
in the footsteps of the servant who was forgiven by the King, and yet could not
forgive his own servant. That is NOT us. We through the strength of God are better
than that. We can forgive because Christ's blood has paid the price. Nothing
can separate us from the Love of God, not our wickedness, our failures, our
sin, or our past.
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