What to do with Guilt?

On multiple occasions I have had the opportunity to walk with a number of believers as they were dealing with the feeling of guilt. In fact every one of us has had an occasion in our life where we have felt guilty about something. When our conscience causes us to feel this way, it can lead us to true conviction and repentance and that is a good thing. However it is not a good thing when we continue to be weighed down by this feeling of guilt. So the question is… “What do we do with our guilt?” Well, the short answer is that the only way guilt can be dealt with is by going to Christ; this is the only way lasting freedom from guilt will ever take place. I have a little booklet written by Dr. Timothy Lane from the Christian Counseling and Educational Foundation, and I would like to summarize some ideas about our guilt based on this booklet.

I want to first mention some wrong ways we deal with guilt:

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•  Declaring you are not guilty: The fact is most of the time when we feel like this, it is because we have done something wrong (now obviously there are some exceptions to this). But in truth, much of guilt comes because we know something we said or did was wrong. We can’t alleviate this by blaming society, church, God or Scripture for “making you feel guilty.” The fact is you are guilty.

• Trying Harder: This is the idea many times…that although you messed up, you are going to try harder. This is kind of like the person who begins a diet every Monday. The intentions are good, but many times the outcome is not. When I am depending on my own power and discipline alone and that fails me, it leads me to feeling a deeper sense of guilt.

• Focusing on your guilt: I have seen others sink into this emotional depression, because of the struggle of guilt. They are consumed by their sin: they can’t believe they have messed up. This constant worry over the sin they have committed caused them to focus on the sin and miss the Savior in the midst of a dark time.

I must understand when I feel guilty, that the Lord has given me a conscious, and as a child of God I have the Holy Spirit indwelling my life. This leads to conviction, guilty feelings, a troubled heart and many other emotions. At this point, I would do well to remember how guilty I am, that I do not Love the Lord my God with all my heart, strength and mind all the time, nor do I love my neighbor as myself often enough. The Psalmist reminds us that if the Lord were to number our iniquities, no one could stand. Christ took care of all past, present and future sins on the cross. As a believer repentance is a lifestyle, not a single event. My salvation is where my repentance begins, but our repentance is ongoing. The Bible reminds me in Romans 8:1 “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Christ drank the full wrath of God for my sin: I don’t have to live under guilt, as Christ has paid it all. We should embrace our conviction and repent but, I don’t have to live under the cloud of guilt because God sees me as He sees His Son! So knowing this, how should I handle guilt? We will hit that next week! 

A Good Reminder

As I read this blog (below) the other day, I couldn’t help but think of the many times that as a dad, I just miss it.  We have been going through Men’s Fraternity through the last few years and it has helped me remember to try to redeem these moments. I pray that this would remind not just our men, but all of our parents not to miss the moments to love, laugh and instruct our children in the few short years they are in our home.

http://www.thomrainer.com/2012/09/confessions-of-a-bah-humbug-father.php

Confessions of A Bah-Humbug Father

I loved watching my boys participate in sports. One of their youngest ventures was t-ball. For the uninitiated, t-ball is baseball without a pitcher. The baseball is placed on a tee for the young boy or girl to hit.

Now the beauty of t-ball is that you can’t strike out. If you happen to miss the ball when you swing, your coach will help you position your bat, and you get to try again. In fact, you keep on trying until you finally hit the ball. My boys called second and third swings “do-overs.”

I wish I had some do-overs as a father. I tend to be a workaholic. And when I put in long and unreasonable hours, I get grouchy. The laughing, joyous father becomes a grouchy bear.

Though I have had many spells of the bah-humbug attitude, it seemed to be especially pervasive when my boys were young. I was a seminary student and pastor of a rural church. I also worked at a bank since the church only provided me fifty dollars per week in income. My schedule was horrendous. Fifteen hours of classroom time each week. Thirty-plus hours at the bank. More than twenty hours a week of studying. And at least forty hours at the church.

During those three years, I often was anything but a joy. I have some painful memories that I don’t particularly like recalling. But those stories are important reminders.

The three preschool boys were still in their pajamas, watching an early-morning cartoon. “Look at Scooby Doo, Daddy!” one of the boys exclaimed in laughter. Those boys were having so much fun. They wanted their daddy to join in on the hilarity.

I was tired and had to leave for an 8:00 a.m. class, but that does not excuse my behavior. I told the boys in an irritable tone that I had to leave and they needed to hug me good-bye, part of our everyday routine.

The boys were into their cartoons and were oblivious to my demands. In a moment of anger, I left the little campus apartment without my daily hugs. I got into the old Ford, made the usual U-turn that brought me right in front of the apartment. And there, standing on the little porch, were Sam and Art crying, motioning for me to return and hug them.

I felt like such a lowlife—because I was.

Even as I write this story more than two decades later, my eyes are filling with tears.

I jumped out of the car, grabbed my two sons with each of my arms, took them back into the apartment, and hugged them repeatedly.

I then threw off my coat and sat on the floor and watched Scooby Doo.

I missed my 8:00 a.m. class, and I don’t even remember what the class was. But I do remember Scooby Doo. And I do remember my boys yelling with delight that Daddy had returned and joined the party of laughter.

But there just aren’t any do-overs as a father.

You can ask for forgiveness. You can make up for a bad moment.

But you can’t undo that which has already been done.

There are no do-overs.