An Epic Tug-of-War

Why are some things so easy in theory but so hard in practice?

“I’m sorry.”

“I was wrong.”

“Please forgive me.”

I mean really... they are simple, everyday phrases in our native tongue. Yet sometimes it feels as though those particular words have a 400 pound anchor attached to them. As if the level of difficulty in drawing them from our hearts to our tongues is insurmountable. And an epic battle of tug-of-war rages inside of us -- a battle between doing what's right and self-preservation.

Maybe that’s dramatic, but it seems to be a pretty accurate description of my recent experience. 

I had been on edge for a few days, but couldn’t put my finger on the “why.” My normal jokes and quick quips were of the usual type but there was something different behind them. They cut more than they quipped. My wife was feeling it. I played it off. Maybe she was just feeling extra sensitive, I suggested. But I was noticing too. And then it seemed to subside.

A few days later, we were traveling out of state as a family. People were tired. There was tension in the car. I attempted a joke. It came out more like a jab. It was back. And she wasn’t laughing. I knew I needed to own it. Not just this it, but the other its before it. But it was hard.

You’d think that four and a half decades of opportunity and experience would make anything second nature — even apologizing. But that’s just it — it is second nature. With the first still alive and kicking.

Our first nature hasn’t changed much in 10,000 years. It’s the nature we inherited from Adam and Eve. They hid and blamed. We do the same. Because if there’s one thing we don’t want, it’s our sin out in the open.

“So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths.

And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?” And he said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.” He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

Genesis 3:6-13

To paraphrase…

“I was exposed. I was afraid. So I hid.”

“The woman you gave me, it was her idea.”

“The devil made me do it.”

Have you ever wondered what might have happened if Adam and Eve had simply owned what they had done?

But that’s the hardest part, isn’t it? Ownership. It’s not the words themselves that weigh 400 pounds. After all, we’ve seen kids throw them about with all the weight of a paper airplane. Some adults, too.

I believe it’s the owning of the pain and the damage it’s caused that increases the level of difficulty. It’s admitting the stuff that was — or still is — in our hearts that incarnates the power lifter on the other end of that rope. It’s a battle of the wills. A battle of two natures.

So how do we win? How can we persuade ourselves to do the really hard thing as we ask and trust God to give us the strength? Can I offer you another perspective? One that I hope will lead both of us to more victory in this area of our lives? 

What if we began to think of that 400 pound weight as a measure of potential power to be wielded rather than a personal price to be paid? What if we viewed the difficulty in dragging it from our heart to our mouth as a measure of the potential healing and relief that could come? Because it is.

The harder it is to face the thing you need to face, the more necessary it is to face it. Your desire to ignore what needs to be owned correlates directly with how much it needs to be owned. And the power of an “I’m sorry” is in direct relation to the difficulty in saying it.

I knew I needed to own my it and all the its before it, but hadn’t worked up the courage that evening. Embarrassing, I know. But I woke up the next morning resolved to drag the words to my lips. They would be spoken. No. Matter. What. 

Soon we would be in the car together. Alone. It would be a short drive to church on this Sunday morning, but I would get it done. As we made our way towards the church, the resistance inside felt as if portions of my organs were the ropes involved in this epic tug-of-war.  “It shouldn’t be this hard,” I thought. “Just say it,” I told myself. I was resolved, but the struggle was real. 

We turned into the parking lot. Time was running out. Had I really let it take this long? My heart pumped faster. And louder. The tension may have only been within me but it seemed as if it was enough to fill the whole car. “This is ridiculous,” I thought. And then determination overtook self preservation. “I’m sorry, Sweetie.” I paused and turned to look at her. “My words have been sharper than normal lately,” I continued. “I don’t know what’s causing it, but I know I’ve hurt you. And I’m sorry.”

Tears came. For both of us. She looked at me and simply said, “Thank you.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. They were words she needed to hear. Words her heart needed to receive. And words I needed to say. Healing was happening. Not because it was easy, but because it was hard.

I have a new determination going forward. When I think of the power of owning something that is hard to own, I’m going to begin picturing David standing before a fallen Goliath. That is the victory and legacy I want. Not that of the “warriors” who hid and refused to fight, but of the one who stepped forward. Because he knew there was a good God standing behind him and that His will was crystal clear.

That massive sword at Goliath’s side is the weapon I will yield. Much like the difficult thing I must do, it is full of potential power precisely because of it’s weight and the determination required to wield it. But, oh the joy and satisfaction in raising it overhead when the battle is over and victory is secured! When peace replaces palpitations.

Is there something you need to face today? Face it. Is there an it you need to own? Own it. 

Leave the legacy you want to leave.

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This post belongs to a series in the book of Genesis. To read previous posts in this series, use the links below or the archives to the left of this post.

The Image of God -- Genesis 1:27 -- an important reminder for all of us

Anatomy of a Fall -- Genesis 3:1 -- one of my favorite posts of all time  : )