Philippians 2:3-4
"Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind consider one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others."
My manipulation and worry tie in very closely with one another and affect all areas of my life. I am constantly assessing things, noting eye movements and body language, listening to tone of voice, and evaluating how I should act in order to affect or not affect the situation. As a result, my mind is always in high gear (it’s like walking on eggshells); I project what someone is thinking and feeling, which leads to a lot of miscommunication; and I am worried about how well I’m doing it. I am trying to control things, and at the same time, am worried about controlling them.
Let me show you just how convoluted this gets.
One aspect of manipulation means I’m not entirely honest. It’s harder to see this part because of how I've pitched it to myself, but it’s true. In my manipulation, I sometimes withhold certain information (or, more accurately, certain aspects of information) from my communication. I may not have strictly lied, but neither did I tell the whole truth.
Also, I have developed what I call “filters” on my communication. I have various filters, but I’ll just mention a couple of examples. One I have dubbed my “fear of man” filter, which is when I’m afraid of harming my reputation or of harming someone with how I communicate. (I use the word communicate, because I’m not only worried about what I say, but also what body language I employ, and - to a lesser degree - what I write.) It isn’t bad to not want to hurt people, and neither is it bad to want to keep a good reputation, but it is bad when you sacrifice the truth - including the whole truth - in order to achieve that end.
Another of my filters is my “truth” filter (recognize the irony). I try very hard (usually when not under the influence of my “fear of man” filter) to say exactly what I mean and to not be misconstrued. In this, I also worry so much about being “right” and speaking the “truth” that what I actually end up saying is too far removed from the original thought to be intelligibly related to my original meaning. Kind of like this sentence; let me explain how this all fits together.
Tongue-in-cheek, let's say you ask me what color the sky is. Insert my truth filter. Well... the sky isn’t actually blue, it’s every color except blue because blue is what's reflected back, rather than absorbed into it. So I would be lying if I said the sky was blue. Instead, I start to say the sun’s light is scattering on the earth’s atmosphere in such a way as to reflect blue light. Then I stop myself, because this doesn’t actually tell you what color the sky is... because the sky isn’t blue.
Ordinarily, my fear of man filter would kick in about now because a) I’m taking too much time to answer what should be a simple question, b) I’m in danger of sounding prideful about being brainy, and c) the answer you're probably looking for is just that the sky is blue. I say all of this tongue-in-cheek because I wouldn’t worry this much about a simple question like that... unless, of course, a scientist were asking the question. So you can see how far down the worry goes, and how convoluted the truth ends up getting.
Why am I so worried? I'm trying to control the situation with manipulation to achieve my desired outcome. What is the root of this desire for control? Self-centeredness and pride. I want things to go my way, and, of course, it should go my way, because I know best. (I find this quite humorous, because I know I don’t know best, which is why I worry about being in control.) Yet isn’t this exactly what we do? By taking control, we are literally saying we can do it better (than God, in most cases).
So what is the truth? The truth is, I shouldn’t be worried about the outcome because God is fully in control of every detail. The truth is, I shouldn’t be so prideful as to try to take control from God, because He really does know better than I do, and is already looking out for my best interests. The truth is, all I’m really thinking about in the end is myself, and God should be the One upon whom I meditate. I cannot know His will for me if I am not dwelling on Him and His Word, and instead am dwelling upon my short-sighted self. I am incredibly thankful to rest in the peace of Christ, in His faithfulness, and in His sovereign control.
Do you worry? Is your struggle about control like mine (even though it took me some time to understand)? What helps you change your desire for control into an understanding of and peace about your lack of control, and into a desire for God to use you as He wills?
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