It feels almost indistinguishable from personal offense.
It comes from people we'd rather not listen to. In fact, we'll search for any way possible to disqualify them from truth-speaking in our lives.
"They're not on my level."
"They have it out for me."
"I knew I couldn't trust them."
When I was stepping down from Reston Community Church in February 2008, I asked a group of five local pastors to assess our church. My friend Mike McKinley was sitting on that panel, and he said something to me that stung like a bee: "We need to make certain you're not leaving because of sin in your life."
I've never told Mike this, but that made me angry. "You don't really know me," I wanted to say. "How about if we look for sin in your life!" was another thought. "You didn't plant a church!" But now I realize that Mike was the only real truth-speaker in my life. God used him to help me do a little inward analysis.
If we don't pray, "Search my heart Oh God," he will do it anyway.
Have you ever noticed that God never used kings to speak truth to other kings in the Bible? He always used grungy vagabonds who ate insects and lived in the desert. (Doesn't make me feel so bad to be just a blogger these days. =)
But seriously. Disqualifying truth-speakers because of personal achievement would be like the entire Washington Redskin offensive line telling Joe Gibbs to sit down and shut up because he never played pro football.
It pays to at least process our emotional flare-ups. That should tell us something. Conviction feels almost indistinguishable from personal offense. Remember what Paul told the Corinthians:
"Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it. Though I
did regret it—I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little
while— yet now I am
happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you
to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not
harmed in any way by us."
Besides, when we ignore the prophets, God has to send in the real jackasses. (Numbers 22)
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