Experience: Honesty

When I was a kid, one of my mom’s rules was directly targeted toward honesty. We could do anything, so long as we told her. If, however, she found out first, we would be punished beyond our wildest dreams.

At first glance, most parents recoil from that idea as they start imagining the lawlessness that would unfold. They imagine kids breaking all their rules and dare not imagine the adults they would become—people without regard for authority or laws. But I believe my mom had a secret, something that only as an adult I’ve been able to fully understand and cherish.

I believe my mom had a secret, something that only as an adult I've been able to fully understand and cherish.

To add fuel to your disbelief, I remember one day when I was in third grade. My parents had just arrived back from their monthly grocery shopping trip with tons of goodies and treasures. I always loved being there to “help” them unpack so I could see everything we got. Near the end, I remember my mom holding up a bag of M&M’s and saying to me, “David, this is off-limits. Do not eat these,” as she proceeded to put them on the highest possible shelf, far outside my natural reach.

That evening, when no one was around, I climbed onto the kitchen counter and found the bag of M&M’s. Remarkably, I only took a handful, for fear of taking too much. After the fleeting deliciousness left my tongue, I was left with that sinking feeling—that fear of discovery. I was in trouble...

You might be thinking, “No, you weren’t,” but try to explain that to a kid. Try to explain that to someone feeling shame, guilt, and the fear of owning up to something. Our natural instinct is to hide what we’re ashamed of, to lie, and to deceive. Once we learn that ability as kids, we believe we have a superpower—one that can manipulate the very reality we exist in. We don’t understand why others don’t use it, or we expect that everyone is.

So I went back to my room, feeling all sorts of awful, trying to come up with ways to hide my trail. But I knew my mom only gave us M&M’s during movie time (pre-approved movie time). She would quickly know if someone had taken some outside of that preordained moment.

Finally, after mustering up the courage, I found my mom and told her, “Mom, I ate some of the M&M’s. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself—they’re so good…” Then I braced myself. I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of anger that normally comes out of people when you tell them the truth. But to her credit—this time and every time—she would say, “Thank you for telling me the truth. I know how hard that was for you.” Then she would explain why they were off-limits and ask me to please respect that rule in the future.

Growing up with this rule, and this example, I became someone much more inclined to overcome shame and the fear of telling the truth. But as that lesson has grown more distant, I’ve noticed how we are all training each other to be liars—how we make it so hard for one another to tell the truth. I’ve noticed how I now have to fight within myself to overcome that shame, and I can only imagine how difficult it would be for someone who has never had that grace, mercy, or compassion donned on them by someone they loved.

It's occurred to me that our anger, our emotions oppress others into acquiescence. It trains them to distance themselves from their darker parts, their shame, and their guilt; things that rot in the dark. Not only that, but it distances them away from their desires, and aspirations. Triangulating away a part of themselves to appease you. It reminds me of a line in the Gospel of Thomas (which apparently could be one of the earliest Gospels):

Thomas Logion:70
“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you.
If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

We, through our lack of maturity with our emotions, unknowingly seek one another's destruction. It takes an immense amount of courage to overcome that force—to maintain the courage to be disliked, even by the ones you love.

I hope that we realize the part we play, and if we don't believe we have the courage to speak our shame, our guilt, or our desires, that we, at the very least, provide the space, grace, and forgiveness for others to.