Digging Up the Root of Bitterness

“Perhaps at other times in my life I wouldn’t have even noticed the offense.  I would have brushed it off, overlooked it, ignored it, maybe even laughed it off.  But not when I’m laid low by sorrow.” - Nancy Guthrie

It started out with hurt feelings when others didn't weep with me when Wesley was born. People seemed to quickly forget to offer help as I struggled to get my boys to literally hundreds of doctor's appointments.  I noticed as those asking how Wesley was doing, how we were doing, slowed to a trickle.  Unlike other babies, who were often scooped out of their mother’s arms and cuddled by others, most people didn't hold Wesley and love on him.  It seemed as though those calling just to say hi or check in on our family became almost non-existant.

“If these offenses don’t reach the level of sin against me, why am I so hurt by them?... When someone who should have been there for us didn’t show up, when someone who should be for us has turned against us, it hurts.  Deeply.  Unspeakably.”  - Nancy Guthrie

It then grew to anger.  I judged those around me harshly.  I assumed that we had been forgotten, that others had chosen not to carry our burdens with us.

As the years passed, I became bitter.  I could barely keep my head above water, and pursuing friendships was not something I was capable of doing.  As others made new friends, I felt more and more isolated, and I held this against them.

“Taking a hard look at my own failures and blindness helped me extend grace to those around me who were as oblivious as I had once been.  I stopped expecting that people around me should get it and instead reminded myself, They haven’t been here.  They can’t know what this is like.  My heart broke as I wondered, How many people have I hurt over the years by being unwilling to enter into their sorrow with them?”  - Nancy Guthrie

Envy crept in.  As I harbored bitterness against those around me, I was also unhappy with the blessings and fortune they enjoyed.

I resented others, bitterness simmering at the whole perceived injustice of it all.

And then, malice showed it's ugly face, bringing with it dreams that envisioned their ruin. Perhaps they would one day get what they deserved.  When trials came their way and everyone forsook them, then I could just give a satisfied chuckle.

These sins took root in my life.  Instead of urgently attacking and putting them to death, I allowed them to eat away at my soul, slowly and painfully killing me.  As a result, they left much carnage in their wake.  I don't trust those around me.  There is dissension.  My envy has torn me apart from dear friends.  My anger has been corrosive to genuine fellowship.  My bitterness has made friendship impossible.

“As we look inside ourselves, we begin to see our own resentment as the real issue in our lives – the sin we are responsible for.  We start to recognize that it’s not what another person has said or done that robs us of our joy but our own grudges that we’ve coddled and kindled.  And we decide to stop throwing logs onto that fire.”  - Nancy Guthrie

So where do I go from here?  How do I start to untangle this pervasive sin that has taken root in my heart?

I am so thankful that I do not fight my sin in my own strength.  For if I did, I would surely lose.  This sin has a tight hold on my life, with roots four years deep.

“How can we forgive when that person doesn’t deserve it and hasn’t even acknowledged what he or she did wrong?  We’re afraid that if we forgive, it’s like saying that what that person said or did doesn’t really matter – that it is excusable or not a big deal.  But forgiveness isn’t minimizing what someone has done.  Real forgiveness is far more costly than that.  It says, “You hurt me deeply, but I’m not going to make you pay.  I will pay.  You don’t owe me anymore – not even an apology.”  Forgiveness is choosing to absorb the pain and pay the debt yourself that you are rightfully owed, asking God to do a work of grace and quench the fiery anger in your heart.”  - Nancy Guthrie

So I start by remembering Jesus.  I remember what he has done for me.  He has paid for my sins, canceling my debt, and making me his holy, spotless, forgiven, and loved child.  I do not deserve this, but yet, it is mine.  God sees the blackness of my heart, but still, He welcomes me as His holy child because my sins have been paid in full.  He blots out my transgressions for His own sake, and He will not remember my sins. (Isaiah 43:25)

I repent.  I choose to turn from the sin which is leading me to death, turning instead to God who gives me life.  I am very aware that these sins will come back to haunt me again and again.  I will judge others again, grow angry at them, and be hurt by them.  I must keep repenting of my sin or envy and bitterness and malice will again enter to destroy my life.  And I cling to the promise in 1 John 1:9, which says "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

So I confess my sin, and I ask God to help me not just lock it up in a closet, where it will eventually creep back out and attack me again at a later time, but kill it.  And keep killing it every time it shows its face.

I don't want to indulge hurt feelings.  I don't want to be angry at those around me.  Or bitter. Or envious.

“We stop constructing plans to get revenge and instead nurture thoughts of how we might bless those people.  Instead of being happy when they hurt, we allow ourselves to be sad with them.  We figure out what it would look like to express love in a meaningful way, and then we do it without fanfare.  We refuse to keep dwelling on the injustice of what happened and choose instead to trust God to execute justice, believing that he will settle accounts for us far more justly than we can.  We repent of the pride and superiority that cause us to think to ourselves, or perhaps even say out loud, I would never do that!”  - Nancy Guthrie

From now on, by God's grace, I pray that my love for those around me will be genuine.  I pray that I will abhor what is evil, holding fast to what is good.  I am asking God to help me love others with brotherly affection and seek to show them hospitality.  I want to rejoice with those around me when they rejoice and also weep with them when they weep.  I pray that from here on out, I will live in harmony with others.  I don't want to repay evil for evil (or even perceived evil).  Instead I pray that I will do what is honorable in the sight of all.  So far as it depends on me, I ask that God would help me to live peaceably with all.  (Romans 12:9-21)

* I have borrowed some thoughts from this blog post by Joe Rigney at Desiring God ministries, which the Lord used to convict me and see how these sins were destroying my life.

* Quotes by Nancy Guthrie are from her book, Hearing Jesus Speak into Your Sorrow