Dealing with the Shameful
There are certain things I absolutely don’t feel happy to talk about.
Like telling another person how I made a fool of myself, or the number of times I reacted immaturely or arrogantly. Nor do I want to speak about the time I yelled and screamed and just couldn’t control my anger. But why should I?
Why should I expose myself and admit my failures? Why bother others with my private stuff?
The problem is that others have seen it, and that’s embarrassing enough. Or in case nobody did, at least I know about it and feel ashamed. And of course, the Lord knows…
Is there a way out?
Yes, there is. I’ll have to talk about it.
Admitted, not everybody needs to know all my filth, and probably it wouldn’t be of any public interest, anyway.
However, if this thing is still bothering me, I need to talk about it.
I need to take a deep breath and talk to someone I trust. And contact the person I offended or let down or betrayed, not in order to explain, but to admit, regret and apologize. Then, give myself a new start.
This can completely change my situation. It’s like opening a window and letting fresh air flood into my room.
Are you in that situation?
Then, may I suggest that you talk about it. It isn’t always easy, yet it’s worth it.
You won’t regret it!
Comments
Sara Gabrielsson
Dear Egmont, this is life-saving advice. I know from my own experience! Shame is a feeling among others and a very important one. But we need to go beyond it, because if we get stuck in shame we will run away and hide and the cause of shame will never be dealt with. If we dare to accept the shame and go beyond it and take the risk of opening up and showing ourselves as we are (with the less nice sides included) we give others a chance to give us that healing acceptance that is the key to restauration. I can’t help of thinking of pastor Robert Ekh in this context. I don’t know if that was the inspiration of your text.
Egmont Mika
Thank you, Sara, for your fine commentary. You are right, this post fits very well into our situation in Uppsala, but I didn’t think of that, when I wrote it.