Facades Don't Work with God
“Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me!
For my soul trusts in You;
And in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge,
Until these calamities have passed by.
I will cry out to God Most High,
To God who performs all things for me.”
I suppose it’s human nature for us to hide the ugly side of ourselves. Compounded by media (social and otherwise), societal norms, and religious precedents, we have created a standard of “faking it til you make it” which is not only damaging, but impossible to sustain. It’s perplexing that the worse the world gets, the deeper we become entrenched in this ideal. Avoiding reality seems to have become more than accepted, it’s basically status quo.
Not only has this model made its way into our everyday lives, it’s made its way into our relationship with God as well. But here’s the thing: putting on facades may work, albeit temporarily, in the world. Attention, likes, shares, spotlights, platforms, and so on are all natural benefits of displaying our best side. But there is absolutely no benefit in only giving God our good sides, whether it be in prayer, worship, or simply in our journey with Him through life.
It’s both ignorant and arrogant to believe that God doesn’t know and see our worst attributes. He even sees it when we think we are doing what is good and right. Further, it’s borderline an insult to God to withhold our mess-ups, our pain, and our emotional burdens from Him. On top of that, it really doesn’t serve us well either.
I learned fairly early on in my illness that sharing my struggle with God was necessary for survival. Pushing in prayer while trying to ignore both my physical and emotional pain was not only difficult, it was fruitless. Pretending that I was focusing on prayer targets while fighting through brain fog and fatigue was not conducive either. I remember at one point during one of my worst flares just telling God “I can’t pretend like I want to pray right now, God.” Unsurprisingly, I found the strength to pray after I spoke those words.
From then on, I made it a point to lay out my reservations in prayer. Some days I have nothing but praise and adoration to pour out. On others, I’m forced to admit I’m struggling. What I have found is that it’s much easier to pray in authenticity. Honesty removes barriers, and it makes confession a lot simpler too. I’ve learned that revealing my struggles in prayer doesn’t impede worship, it opens the door to it. Praise comes with the release of anxieties. Growth in our relationship with God is directly related to how much we are willing to surrender to Him. Grace and mercy become much more tangible where honesty dwells.
In his book, How Long, O Lord? D. A. Carson says "God does not blame us if in our suffering we frankly vent our despair and confess our loss of hope, our sense of futility, our lamentations about life itself." As I reflected upon this quote, I wondered how many of us are still operating in the belief that God expects us to come to Him with a facade of joy and perfection. The reality is that God knows this world is a mess. He knows that WE are messes. That’s why He sent His only begotten Son into this world.
Facades have their use in the world, and we all participate in the show at times. But, we can’t carry them over into our spiritual lives. I can’t stress enough that worshipping God is not simply about words and stature - it’s about the actual process of coming to God, surrendering ourselves to Him, and allowing Him to do the necessary transformation work. It is necessary for us to surrender both the facade and what’s behind it in order for us to grow in our lives, in our faith, and in our relationship with God.