Looking My Demons In The Eye

Demons have a bad rap these days. And of course, they should, they’re the bad guys in most understandings of the Biblical narrative. But what I mean when I say that they have a bad rap is that a lot of stuff is wrongly attributed to them.

Do you know what’s worse than looking demons in the eye? Looking at the darkness and realizing that it’s just my own fallen state. That’s a tough one to come back from. Well, that was this week in a nutshell. And it would not be hyperbole to say that these have been the hardest few days of my life.

As every missionary knows, we’re not a perfect subspecies of human. We make mistakes, bad calls, and mismanage things all the time. But we mismanage ourselves most of all. We are the people that get to see some of the best things that God is doing in the world, while simultaneously dealing with some of the worst parts of ourselves. It’s a very unsettling, if not a genuinely earth-shattering, process.

And I’m doing this all while settling into a new land. I now understand why it seemed perfectly logical to Abraham and Sarah to rush into a surrogacy situation instead of waiting for their promised child. I now understand why Peter asked Jesus weird questions pretty much all of the time. I understand why Jonah wanted to die after saving the city of Ninevah, and I understand why David’s psalms are so poignant. They were all seeing the best that God had to offer while becoming more aware of the overwhelming darkness they were still capable of. It can unwind even the best of people.

And that’s what is getting to me, now.

It’s truly unsettling to know that at this moment, with all this grace I have been given, I’m still willing to choose the sin simply because it’s comfortable. I’m still willing to let the darkness in for those moments of private nostalgia because it’s something known amongst all of this unknown. It’s like an abuser who I know I should never let back into my life because it always spirals down into truly painful chaos, but it’s comforting in those early moments.

And then it quickly overwhelms.

But that’s sin for you.

So this time I looked it in the eye, and I named it. I held its gaze and then I slowly took a step towards the door.

That initial step is different for different people, but for me, it’s verbal honesty that allows me to take a tiny step away. For me, it was calling my dad, the person who best knows the chaos I’m capable of exacting on my world, and can speak wisdom into it. I had to be painfully honest about the situation and ask for advice.

One step closer towards the door.

And then it was finding someone I could be accountable to, who is here with me. Someone who could hold me in check in moments when I can’t find true north. What a true godsend to have someone like that here on the other side of the world, another sign of that grace I don’t deserve. But in moments like this, it absolutely needs to be done. Someone trustworthy needs to know what I’m capable of, both the good and the bad. Thank God for her.

Another step closer towards the door, and I click it open.

And then I run in the other direction. I physically find actions to propel me away from the darkness. I run as fast as I can in the opposite direction.

God, it’s hard. It costs a lot. Especially when it’s still a comfort. I’m going against a lifetime of bad habits and years of making excuses. That’s a lot to drop.

But resting here on the other side knowing I have faced the darkness and not let it swallow me…

That’s priceless.

Can I encourage you to do the same?