All of Me or None at All: What Is Your I-Sight Costing You?

Tuesday Pause™

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:2 (ESV)

Sunday morning while getting dressed for church, I received a call from a number that I’d typically not answer, but because it was local, I answered. The first thing I heard was, “This is the Rowan County Detention Center, you are receiving a one-time FREE call. Please hold to talk to the inmate.” Unfortunately, I immediately knew who the inmate was—it was my cousin—a cousin who I hold near to my heart, who has been much more like a sister. A cousin who has been battling drug addiction since she was in her very early teens. A cousin whose parents—both mother and father—were drug addicts, and whose mother would go on to overdose and die more than 20 years ago, and a father who has been absent much of her life. A cousin who was raised by our grandmother who passed away several years ago. A cousin who is the mother of 9 children, with at least two of them being in the custody of or adopted by someone else. A cousin who is by far one of the kindest people I know. A cousin who, when sober, is one of the best mothers I know.

This cousin has lived with the deep agony of growing up harboring secrets from a painful past that beat her down and left her deeply scarred by trauma—I know this because we've had the conversations. Yet, it's not my story to tell, so I keep what she's told me to myself. Truth is, her unresolved pain became both the foundation and catalyst for an addiction that has led her to do things that are out of alignment with who she truly is, drawing her even deeper into its grip because the thought of coming clean has felt far more painful than continuing to hide.

I wish I could say that rehab has been enough. However, on multiple occasions I have personally taken her to rehab and/or been in close proximity to her while she undertook it, and she’d get clean—then she relapsed, and every time she’s relapsed, the addiction has tightened itself around her.

Her silence is one cost of hiding. Mine looked different, but it cost me too.

Last week, exactly one week after I began my new job, I was fired. The explanation I was given was, “We have different communication styles that don’t work well together.” This was news to me because for days, we had been getting along great, or so I thought. I was left speechless because I believe it was deeper than that. I’m not pretending that my temperament in the moment that led to the disagreement was ideal. Still, I feel fairly certain that a different resolution could have been found. 

You see, after spending much of my childhood suspended in trauma-induced silence—a silence that became an accelerant for attempting to numb my pain rather than heal it, I've since tasted the freedom that comes with owning my voice and the authority that accompanies communicating authentically, so I refuse to any longer pretend that my voice doesn't matter. I am bold and assertive, but sadly, too many of us have been conditioned to believe that asserting ourselves is the same as being aggressive. As a result, an authentic voice is often not what people welcome.

That job wasn't my first education in what happens when you show up whole instead of curated.

I recall that several years ago, I was in Sunday school with a group of women, and we were having a discussion about murder, which led to the leader asking about abortion. Boldly, I shared that I’d had one because, after all, my story is my story, my past is my past, my pain is my pain, and I don’t have to be proud of it in order to own my truth. A couple of days later, the leader reached out to me and let me know that I didn’t have to share everything. I believe she meant well, as she admitted that she’d been harshly judged because of how open she’d been about her own story. In hindsight, I better understand why she cautioned me. My openness has made me the target of more wounding than I can truly recall. However, no amount of affliction brought about by my being open and honest about my authentic story is great enough for me to once again be imprisoned by my past.

“Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.” (John 8:36, NKJV)

My cousin, my job, that Sunday school room—three different struggles, three different costs, but one thread running through all of it: take all of me or none at all. Everyone has a choice. For me, speaking up for myself is the thing that has saved my life. In the same way, I believe not speaking up is the thing that’s killing my cousin, and so many others not just in the world, but in the church too. Her silence didn’t protect her—it became the very soil her addiction grew in. My voice didn’t destroy me—it delivered me.

I think one of the greatest issues in Christian spaces is the way we think, and the thoughts many Christians really have about their own past. Consequently, it has become painfully obvious that even though we’ve “surrendered” our lives to Christ, many are challenged with seeing themselves the way God sees them. Therefore, one of the true struggles within the body of Christ is I-sight—the letter “I,” not the e-y-e.

Proverbs 4:23 reminds us to guard our hearts above everything else, because everything we do flows from them. In other words, our beliefs—or our limiting beliefs—shape how far we can go in life. So that begs the question: If many are conforming to the version of Christianity that is perceived to be “more holy” rather than being fully surrendered to God, who knows our full potential—including the messiness of our past, our personalities that are anything but cookie-cutter, and the unique ways He has woven them into His plan for our lives, how many people are truly living up to their God-ordained potential? If I had to answer, I would say not many, because doing so requires us to step outside the safe boundaries of conformity.

Trying to be someone else almost cost me my life; literally and figuratively. For most of my life, I have battled debilitating anxiety that I didn’t begin to find relief for until I started daring to be unapologetically ME which include speaking up for myself—assertively—even with a shaky voice and in the face of deep misunderstanding.

So, here’s where I leave you: One of the greatest dangers we face is confusing transformation with conformity.

Many of us understand that we are not called to be conformed to the patterns of this world (Romans 12:2). But what happens when we replace worldly conformity with religious conformity?

What happens when we stop trying to become like the world, but instead start trying to become like a church culture’s definition of what a Christian should look like?

Saul was a man who sincerely believed he was doing what was right. He was committed, passionate, and religious. Yet, when he encountered Jesus, he discovered that being devoted to a system was not the same as being transformed by God.

God did not ask Saul to become someone else. He redeemed his passion, redirected his purpose, and transformed him into who he was created to be.

Sometimes, we think holiness means hiding the parts of ourselves that God created. We confuse authenticity with compromise and think denying ourselves means denying our identity, but God is not asking for a performance. He desires our surrender. Take all of me, Lord, not just the parts that fit into someone else’s expectations. Not the version of me shaped by the world. Not the version of me shaped by religious approval, but the version of me transformed by Your Spirit. The goal is not to become more like church. The goal is to become more like Christ.

Stop editing yourself down to fit into a room, a relationship, or even a church culture that only wants the parts of you that are easy to swallow. Take an honest look at what you’ve silenced to be accepted and ask yourself what it’s costing you to keep it quiet. Your voice, your story, your past, and your personality were never meant to be curated for anyone else’s comfort. God isn’t asking for the edited version of you. He’s asking for all of you, so He can redeem all of you.

All of me, or none at all is my new mantra. Which one are you offering the world today?

Listen to this week's Out Loud Podcast Episode Unfiltered & Unashamed: Transformation Isn't Conformity to the World or the Church Unfiltered & Unashamed: Transf… - Out Loud with Jante - Apple Podcasts