Be Gentle With Yourself

Criticism is my silent assassin. I think it always has been. I’m pretty sure I was born this way. The perfectionist in me sees every flaw, points out every mistake, dissects every conversation, email, and text for proper form, tone, and effectiveness. Believe me, if anyone knows how they’ve failed daily, I do.

The problem is criticism sits precariously balanced between correction and condemnation. Lean toward correction, and you can accept and adjust. Lean toward condemnation, and you spiral into the abyss.

It was from the depths of the abyss, during one of my darkest seasons, a dear friend looked across the table from me and in compassionate softness said, "It's ok. Right now, you need to be gentle with yourself."

Gentle with myself.

It was like hearing a sentence in a different language. I can motivate, push, applaud, diagnose, correct, and praise myself. But gentleness? Gentleness is not a virtue I’ve valued much. It's definitely a growth area. Growth of any kind is usually both painful and personal, taking place where no one sees what is happening on the inside.

What would it look like to be gentle myself?

Gentleness is a fruit of the Spirit, so it does not come naturally to the flesh. (Galatians 5:22-23) There's a softness, tenderness, a touch of finesse associated with the word. Pictures like the nurturing mother, Snow White singing to the animals, and baby lambs come to mind. Yet Christ is also gentle, and none of those word pictures describe Him in whole.

When I think of Jesus, His gentleness looks more like my daddy's calloused, hard-working hands being careful not to hurt me. I think of Jesus taking the hand of the dead girl, rubbing mud on a blind man’s eyes, speaking a storm into peace. Jesus is power finessed. Jesus showed gentleness by willfully humbling His power, putting it into submission for a greater purpose often out of loving consideration for another.

Enter the wisdom of, "Be gentle with yourself."

My mind, my will, and my emotions are POWERFUL gifts when submitted to Christ in loving consideration of His commands. They are powerful weapons against me when under the control of my flesh. They are powerful weapons for me when under control of the Spirit. Since gentleness is a witness of the Holy Spirit’s presence in my life, to be gentle with myself must be the outcome of Spirit work. My power must be funneled through Christ, to allow Him to wield my mind, my will, and my emotions how He deems worthy, producing good fruit.

To be gentle with myself looks like grace in action.

It looks like acknowledging the hard things in life when they come, giving them space to breathe and be what they are. Hard. (Ecclesiastes 3:4) When today is hard—grief comes for a visit, disappointment shows up on your doorstep, hurt stings—give it a moment. Don’t push it away, disregard or minimize its presence. See it. Feel it. Feel all the emotions as they come and reject all condemnation that may follow. (Romans 8:1) I am only human. My emotions are not sins until I begin to treat them like they are—hiding them, stuffing them, allowing them to take control. I must take a moment to notice them and hand them to Jesus. I can’t move forward until I do.

Being gentle looks like removing any expectations of all the "shoulds" in my life, accepting what today is. (2 Peter 1:3, Psalm 118:24) I should be exercising. I should be doing laundry. I should have called my friend. The list in my head can be never ending. I need to stop and recognize. God gave me today. He’s already provided me with everything I need to live and accomplish His will today. When I ask Him what I need to be doing, all I really must do is that.

Gentleness with myself is remembering that God sees me right where I am, for who I am, and He loves me unconditionally. Right here. Right now. (Ephesians 3:17-19, Psalm 139) I have nothing to prove to anyone else. It’s my choice to believe truth and rest in it. Taking captive any thoughts that say different and releasing them to Jesus because He's the judge and jury, not me. (2 Corinthians 10:5)

You cannot pour into others something you do not already possess. If I wish for gentleness to be a marker of my life, a virtue others can experience, a fruit the world can taste, I must first learn to be gentle with myself. Practicing gentleness inwardly will allow others to experience it outwardly.

Some of us beat ourselves up too much. Some are utterly clueless, not self-aware at all. The gavel of conviction seems to be but a bothersome mosquito bite. But some need to place the gavel we constantly carry for ourselves back into the nail-scarred hands of our Heavenly Father. The result of His wounds was a healing grace only He can administer, a salve for our burning souls. Let Him decide when the gavel is necessary, and in the meantime, be gentle with yourself as He is gentle with you.

In my hardest of times and darkest of days, I needed those tender words from a friend giving me permission to be gentle with myself (almost as if God Himself was using her to whisper those words to me) because God was being gentle with me, and I needed to allow Him to do His work.

Where is God gently working in your life? Do you pick up the inner critic hammer to try and fix yourself instead of submitting to the hands of your Maker? Jesus has been far gentler and kinder to me in His unfailing strength and presence than I have ever been to myself. If you find yourself in a hard season, and the voice inside your head is always harsh, hateful, critical, and demanding, please, please, hear my Jesus whispering, "It's ok. Right now, you just need to be gentle with yourself."