If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. Matthew 5:30 ESV
Until last week, that talkative ‘red lizard of Sin’ continually plagued me.
Did you ever read The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis? It’s a short book and very compelling. In one scene, an angel confronts a man who has died, described by Lewis as a ‘ghost’, someone who had rejected God and heaven. On this ghost of a man’s shoulders chatters a lizard, unceasingly arguing for the mildness of sin that he, the reptile, represents.
This angel advises the confused ghost-man to kill the red lizard who whispers all the more persuasively to the contrary. The lizard argues that the man most assuredly can manage him, that’s he quite tame, that what he suggests the man indulge in is not that bad.
The angel doesn’t argue with the ghost-man or with the tempter. He simply offers to kill the Red Lizard himself.
The ghost-man cringes out of fear, anticipating pain and the loss of his pet sin. But he yields to the angel who slays the reptile, thus liberating him. I won’t spoil what happens next. Read the book!
Like the vacillating ghost-man I have felt the forceful propaganda of a similar red lizard. The Spirit himself finally convinced me that I had to sever something I had created because it was causing me to sin.
What was that sin? An out-of-balance preoccupation with something material that often shoved Jesus out of his primary place in my thought life and heart.
I wrote last week about the project I started in 2018 to build a business helping language learners with English. Nothing sinful in and of itself. But starting and building an online presence tapped into pockets of ambition and pride deep inside of me that became disordered.
Last week when I posted my blog, I had resolved to wait on God to see what he wanted me to do. Within 24 hours of hitting ‘publish’ I knew what I had to do, what HE wanted me to do. Since I was continuing to obsess, I had to take drastic action. I truly wanted to be FREE, to tolerate NO interior drive that competed with Jesus.
So, I killed it. I severed it, this on-line presence. I knew that I did not have the power to tame it or change my thoughts and feelings. Just as we clean up our phones to make more space, I had to eliminate the largest ‘file’.
I called up Go Daddy, the tech company hosting my website, and told them to cancel it. The tech support guy reassured me that it would remain active until the subscription period ran out in 5 months.
“No, I want you to kill it now. It’s a trigger for me.” I’m sure he didn’t understand. But he proceeded to read me the statement declaring that if he shut down my website, I would lose everything I had created. I replied, “I understand and accept that. Please just do it.”
Just like that, three and half years of content disappeared. I purposely chose not to back up anything. Then I contacted Mail Chimp and did the same thing. With this service, I had been writing and sending out helpful teaching tips, follow-up extension activities and how I had used each video in my on-line English class. Now that was gone, too.
What did I feel? Nothing. Just a sense of blahness.
But by the next morning, by grace, while lingering over scripture and dialoguing with Jesus in my journal, I started to feel light, free and cheery. I knew I had done what was right for me.
It’s taken me two years to reach this point. I’ve wavered and talked to Mike and family members ad nauseum about feeling a love-hate relationship with English without Fear. Making weekly content has felt burdensome. Yet at the same time I have taken pride in what I offered weekly to the language learning space. The burden grew as I felt or imagined that my subscribers ‘expected’ new videos on a regular basis. The continual wrangling with my thoughts and feelings weighed me down.
Am I sorry I started English without Fear? Nope. I learned a lot about video production. I made contact with English language learners around the world who have enriched my life. My faith deepened and I grew in my understanding of what sin is. I don’t want anything to compete with Jesus and the first place he occupies in my life.
As Graham, my son, reassured me. I can always start something similar again, if that is God’s will for my me. He doesn’t waste any experience, but repackages it for his purposes.
Readers’ Comments