Mirror Mirror On the Wall

Self-reflection as a necessary step in spiritual formation, and a story about hair.

I was born bald. Most babies are born with a little hair, but I was bald until I was two. At two my bald head gave way to thin wisps of blonde hair that barely covered my scalp for several years following.

All of my elementary school photos are cringe-worthy for one reason or another, but First Grade stands out in my mind as a particularly uncomfortable memory. My grandmother styled those thin strands for this photo, not accounting for the fact that I maybe had one third of the required hair to cover my scalp. Her oversight resulted in a high-ponytail paired with a red-and-white checkered top and spots of white scalp shining through and a red bow to highlight the whole ensemble. It’s a beauty. I wish you could see it.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before my grandmother stopped styling me and my hair grew in thicker, but remained blonde for the entirety of my childhood. My pre-teen years added depth and intensity to my already-volatile emotional life, along with deep hues of brown into my once-platinum locks. As I aged, the parts of me desperate for identity and boundaries grew dissatisfied with hair that was “dirty” blonde, so in 8th grade I purchased brown dye in a box and set to work to re-invent myself as a brunette.

Unfortunately, no one warned this pale-skinned 13 year old that dark brown dye on dirty blonde hair would render me gothic-looking with hair so dark it looks black in the disposable camera photos that still lurk in my closet-bound memory boxes. Middle school is an awkward time for literally everyone, but for me the black hair really puts the emphasis in all the right places on that cliche.

The list of embarrassing stories from my childhood and early teen years are abundant, but in case you’re wondering what this story has to do with spiritual formation (or perhaps you’re wondering if you accidentally stumbled into a hair blog), let me wrap it up and get to the point.

To this day, when someone asks me what color my hair is, my immediate reaction is to blurt out, “blonde.” After the black-hair mishap of 2005 my hair eventually lightened back up, but never back to anything resembling blonde except the few times I splurged on highlights to relive my glory days. (If you look up this particular instance of “glory days” in the dictionary, you’d find that class photo of me from the First Grade).

Even though my hair has been decidedly brown since probably high-school, and even darker after the hormonal changes of growing and birthing three children, I still am drawn first to the shampoos and styling products intended for blonde hair. If not for my mother exclaiming how dark my hair is every time we FaceTime (read: almost every morning), I really think I’d still be imagining my hair to be more like Rachel than Monica every time I flip on those Friends re-runs.

And as much as I hope you’ve giggled so far at my hair mishaps, the real issue with this tendency to be self un-aware is that the color of my hair is the least significant thing I get wrong about myself and my situation in any given moment. It’s amazing to look back on days, weeks, and seasons to realize how little I understood my motivations, underlying emotional needs, personality gifting and weaknesses, and other factors that drive the deeds of my life–good, bad, and indifferent.

I was spiritually raised in the Holiness-stream of theological teaching, with emphasis on living with Jesus as the true Lord of our lives for the benefit of our own walk, our witness to the world, and for working out our salvation with fear and trembling. I gained an abundance of wisdom and conviction from this teaching, learning to value, respect, and strive for the standard of godly living in my own life.

There is a marked deficit, however, in this teaching and believe it or not, it truly relates to my experience with my hair.

When the message of repentance centers solely on what we “should” or “shouldn’t” do without an air of curiosity toward the depth of brokenness that we start from, our obedience to the word of Christ leads to disintegrated persons who become disconnected, legalistic, impersonal, unhealthy, defeated and/or compassionless.

I can write with such pointed words because I’ve been all of those things in my walk with Jesus of Nazareth who came from his place with God to live in flesh and love humanity back to God. I’ve been the brunette reaching for the wrong product in both the literal and figurative side of the equation–to the detriment of myself as well as those I’m aiming to reach with the gospel.

Let’s consider a passage of scripture together:

“Therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” Colossians 3:12-17

In my 15 years of discipleship to Jesus, my methodology in reading a passage of scripture such as this one would be as follows:

1. Make a list of all the “good” qualities in this section.

2. Perhaps look up the Greek for each term to get a fuller understanding of the definition

3. Examine all the ways in recent memory that I hadn’t lived up to this quality.

4. Feel guilty (this one is important)

5. Vow to better embody these qualities in the future.

6. Fail again before my morning caffeine was out of my system

7. Feel guilty again

8. Repeat.

Perhaps this resonates with you, or perhaps you come from a different spiritual tradition and so your process of ingesting scripture is different than mine. My question for you, and for myself, is the same no matter what:

How does your process actually contribute to your formation into Christlikeness?

A survey of the Western church would suggest that most of us are missing the mark on this particular point, no matter how committed we are to becoming like Christ. To echo the concerns of Dallas Willard, Richard Foster, and other great contemporary voices in the realm of spiritual formation, there is a marked lack of Christlikeness in the communities of God.

In fact, a huge reason for this is not lack of knowledge, conviction, or ability–as our major denominational teachings might suggest. I believe that the reason even the most committed Christians don’t grow to look more like Christ over the span of their lives is that we have about as good of an awareness of our internal life as I do on the color of my hair.

We may understand that we don’t look like Christ, we may even understand what Christ looks like, but without self-reflection we are dead in the water in terms of how to move toward Christlikeness.

Consider an example:

I have two major vices in my daily life. The first is my response to my children when they are having an emotional breakdown. The second is my response to a situation where I am unable to please everyone.

In the first scenario, I am often prone to loudness, anger, and force. Something inside of me overturns, and I go from being the nurturing and compassionate person I know to resembling she-hulk and scaring my children into obedience and submission. Every time this switch happens, I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt–often for several hours or days afterward.

In the second scenario, I completely shut down. I avoid responding to text messages or calls, as well as put off any decision-making that needs to happen. Then, I let time or more assertive people make the decision, often feeling guilty for whatever person gets the short end of the stick in the scenario. If confronted, I usually cite my chaotic life of parenting three young children in an effort to shift the blame and justify my lack of response.

With my previous engagement of scripture, I could use a blanket response to these two scenarios: Look up scriptures about loving people, gentleness, responsibility–the Biblical values that are violated in these two tendencies of mine are abundant. I would study out the needed qualities and vow to be different.

The problem is that this method deals with only one dimension of our internal life: our mind. As Dallas Willard conceptualizes in Renovation of the Heart (as well as the Biblical writers in scripture) humans are complex beings with a mind, heart, body, soul, and social context. Our spiritual formation depends on us engaging in deep enough self-reflection to identify the source of our missteps–that we may rightly chart a path to growth toward Christ.

Upon self-reflection, the source of my enraged response to my children comes from a very different space internally than my shut-down response to difficult decisions. Instead of a blanket response to repentance, then, I can use this self-awareness to work with the Spirit to engage in appropriate spiritual disciplines that will return my heart to healthy function resulting in the godliness I desperately hope for.

In a couple of weeks I’ll be releasing a guided meditation for self-reflection that draws from the wisdom shared by Dallas Willard in Renovation of the Heart, but for now here are a few things to consider as you aim to grow toward Christ:

• First, name the thing you’re trying to change. Can you pinpoint Biblical values being violated in this area of your life?

• Once you’ve named it, meditate on the following verse: “For as the heaves are high above the earth, so great is His securely-attached love toward those who fear Him; as far as the east is from the west, so far he remove our transgressions from us.” Psalm 103:11-12 PAR

• Now, from a place of love consider the following questions:

  • Why did I do that?

  • What was going on in my mind when that happened? What emotions were in my heart? Can I pinpoint any body sensations present?

  • When else have I done that? Are there any similarities or threads to trace in this tendency or behavior?

  • Can I imagine how Jesus would have responded in this situation? Name the differences.

  • As best as you can, decide if this sinful behavior or tendency has its roots in your thought patterns, your emotional health, your body, your social context, or your soul.

• Carve out 5-10 minutes for listening prayer, ask God to reveal a spiritual practice that will help your heart grow toward Christlikeness.

• Return to Psalm 103 to meditate on God’s love.

My prayer is that using these reflection questions will guide us away from manufacturing stale and short-lasting repentance on our own strength and instead grant us the insight needed to truly find integration and healing in our walk with Christ. To use our earlier analogy, we’ll have a firm grasp on the color of our hair, and buy the products that actually apply to the locks on our head. We won’t buy products better suited for hair that is not ours, hair that belongs to someone else. In this way, may the kingdom of heaven increase exponentially in our hearts.

Amen.