Mirrors

When you are in conflict, the other person is always wrong. At least that’s how it always seems. Or if you’re spiritual enough you’ll admit that you are wrong, but you still believe the other party is more wrong. You are more justified in your anger. You see the situation more clearly than they do. How could they be so blind?

I have been in conflict. And the first hurdle was coming to terms with the darkness within my own heart. What has my portion been? How have I contributed? It wasn’t pretty when I was finally brave enough to look. I judged someone. I decided a whole list of things about her, including things about her character—that she was untrustworthy, hypocritical, incapable, undeserving of her position. I assumed I would do better in her shoes. In short, I attempted to play god. I was angry because a valid need wasn’t met, but I allowed that need to turn into a demand and an expectation that went unfulfilled. And when she didn’t deliver I judged and I punished. I withdrew my relationship and blessing because I was upset that I didn’t get what I wanted. I threw a temper tantrum. Ouch.

The second hurdle has been these words, which someone I trust shared with me: Somehow the actions of the woman who you are offended with are mirroring something within you; otherwise her actions wouldn’t trigger you so deeply.

These words have haunted me for days. I can’t shake them. All the reasons I judged this woman—they are present within my own life. I am violating the same Biblical principle, although perhaps with a different application. Our actions may look different, but somehow they both stem from a similar weak point.

My weak point is control. And that’s just what I’ve hated in this conflict. I have felt controlled, micromanaged, blocked from having information, like she wants me to blindly submit to what I don’t understand. And I’ve hated it. I’ve baulked. I’ve called it unhealthy. I’ve looked for Biblical reasons why she is wrong and I shouldn’t have to submit to her. But the truth is that I also want that kind of control. I withdrew my relationship and refused to communicate because it was my way of grasping for control. I want to be the one making decisions, the one other people listen to. I want to be validated. I want to be right.

But this conflict isn’t about me being right. All this stacked up pressure of first Aaron and then the farm and this conflict, they are all meant to bring me to a breaking point so that something buried deep within me, so engrained in my natural way of thinking that it was hitherto invisible, may be exposed. I thought I came to this ministry to be trained—and I have been—but it hasn’t been the training I expected. It’s been Y’shua’s training ground for my heart to conform me into the image of His son, to make me a student of leadership dynamics and learn to discern healthy from unhealthy, but in the midst of that to forgive, to submit, and to bless an imperfect situation. It hurts like crazy. It downright sucks. And yet it is also wonderful. I know it’s the Lord’s severe mercy to not let this stronghold continue to control my heart. If I can only trust Him enough to stay in this hard place until He’s completely done and He gives me release to leave.