Booky for those who don’t know, is a Red Pill, a Catholic one I believe, who does not find me charming or endearing. I believe the words used are often some variation of, liar, fraud, etc. For those who don’t know, most people who subscribe to a Red Pill ideology don’t like me much, something I attribute to them not liking themselves much.
I can hardly stand watching this stuff being promoted in Jesus Christ’s name, because rather than the fruit of the spirit, “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,” Red Pillian fruits are always about darkness, bitterness, nihilism, hostility, and despair. It totally baffles me how anyone can take the life-giving blood of Christ, His power of healing and redemption, and somehow manage to take a sharp left turn down a dark hole.
Every. Single. Time. The fruits of Red Pill ideology always end in despair. Always. Spiritual death where the only joy one has left is wallowing in bitterness and mocking all the alleged blue pills who are doing it wrong. Part of the problem I see is that Red Pills monger in pride, not humility. They nurture and nourish wounded pride and they make it grow. Just the fact that they believe themselves to possess secret, hidden truths, that the other lemmings don’t have, is a matter of pride. They’re laying pride over scar tissue and just making the infection worse.
Jesus Christ deals in humility, in surrendered pride. We lay our flaws, our sins, our defects down at the foot of the cross, we surrender ourselves to His hands. We admit we need salvation. Then we submit, one to another, with some Christian love that reflects the grace we ourselves have received.
So Booky (and Rollo and a few others) have often accused me of being a fraud, or as Booky says, “How easily your sugary facade drops.” Which makes me want to quip, “what sugary facade?!” I assure you, I am all claws and lemon juice. I have never pretended to be anything else. Anything good you may see is entirely the work of Jesus Christ, on the cross and within me. Those fruits I enjoy, those are His fruits, not my own. God is good, trust me, he’ll take a bitter, twisted, soul and have you singing His praises while you’re cleaning toilets. God is all about joy….. and rejoicing. I clean a whole lot of toliets. And bedpans and urinals. There is nothing fancy, smancy about me.
My husband, bless his heart, taught me something wonderful about humility. Once when people were saying and doing some pretty mean things to me, I lamented that my whole reputation was shot and quite unfairly, I might add. And hubby quipped, “what reputation?” It was just the right appeal to my dark humor and sense of humility. What reputation am I trying to protect here? Is there some depth of depravity I have not yet explored? I’m not a politician or a movie star, I don’t have a public persona and a private one, there is no sugary facade to shatter, no paparazzi hiding in the bushes waiting to catch me in the act. I’ve already been caught, I know who I am, but I also know Whose I am.
I’m just a sinner Booky, one who has had many dark nights of the soul, one who has seen way too much sin to even place much value on people’s opinions of me anymore. I know what lurks in our hearts. I don’t seek people approval anymore, it’s a fickle and fleeting thing. God’s favor however, is steadfast and true, and He wants our souls to prosper. We are to place our trust and faith in Him, not in other people.
I have no idea how to come alongside you, Booky, how to sooth your soul, how to be loving and kind to you. I would you know, if I could. I would fill you with God’s love, I would show His abundance and grace, but you’re just all claws and lemon juice, as I once was. I can’t heal it, all I can do is point you back to the One who can.
I could be the biggest fraud the world has ever seen, but that still would not change the truth of who and what God is and the great love he has for us.