Facing Feelings of Unworthiness

I was at a birthday gathering last night having a great conversation with a friend of mine. A retired therapist and spiritual mentor, she’s very wise. At one point, she grabbed my hand, looked me square in the eyes, and said something to the effect of:

“Before we came on this planet, each one of us chose a mother based on the amount of, “I am not enoughness” we needed to heal.”

I was mentally chewing on that all night. Now, I’ve heard a lot about the “core wound of unworthiness” through the years. Sit down with people and talk with them long enough to unpeel layer and layer of ego/shadow/wounds, and usually the core issue that they’re struggling with is the belief that:

I am not worthy.

It might even sound like: I am not worthy of love, because if you really knew me deep down, you’d see so many awful things… all the things I think I am…
all the things that are wrong with me.

Even on my most confident days, some of these thoughts get my attention.

Do you agree? Isn’t feeling worthy and loved what we most desire? To feel like we’re enough? To feel like we belong? Connected? Accepted unconditionally by others? By our family? By God?

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried out, “Oh God, my righteousness is as filthy rags.” By this, I mean left to my own free will, sometimes my decisions have landed me in some rough spots. Painful circumstances, sobbing, shaking my head wondering, “What the heck? How am I here, AGAIN?”

Help Me, I’m All Alone In Here

Struggle and suffering can come when we feel separate. Alone. When things don’t go as planned. When people hurt us. Or leave us. When the ego or shadow or what Jesus calls sin, is running the show and we feel so very alone “up in here.”

Jesus taught that it is when we live a life led by our carnal or fleshly nature, rather than our spiritual nature, that we end up with all sorts of beliefs and behaviors where we feel unworthy.

We feel wrong.

We feel hauntingly alone, grasping for something, someone –anything to make us feel better.

Still, even in the deepest of pits and darkness, we have the opportunity to progress along a spiritual path toward healing, toward peace, toward wholeness in God.

We’re given the opportunity to as Rumi says, to allow Light (a healing salve) to enter each festering, painful wound.

To Heal Or Not To Heal

I miss my mom, especially at this time of year. She was an incredible woman who left this planet far too early. I’m thinking back to what my friend said about how we choose our mother (or father) based on the level of unworthiness we are to heal in this lifetime. It’s making sense to me.

I can easily look back on my childhood and see where I picked up my “unworthiness beliefs”. My mother was prone to depression. She married my father, a man struggling with alcoholism.

Neither of my parents got very far on the road to emotional or spiritual healing. I’m not sure why.

Life was a struggle at times, as is the case for many families. So, I can see how my mom and dad were not there emotionally as I may have needed — or wanted. I can see how they would have been quite absorbed in their own pain and suffering, doing their best to figure themselves out or NOT hurt so much. I can see exactly how I coped with the chaos, anxious environment, and dysfunction with some unhealthy coping skills.

Did I pick up some unworthiness beliefs?

You bet.

Me –and my siblings. I went around for years and years for the most part feeling unworthy, like a victim, in fear, and writhing in existential angst.

But rather than live a life allowing those childhood faulty beliefs to rule my life, I chose to get on the zig-zagging road to spiritual and emotional healing and growth. Well, not right away, mind you. It took me plenty of years playing in the mud before I got tired of the filth. It’s no big surprise I majored in psychology (to figure myself out) and theology (to figure God out).

We Can Heal What They Couldn’t

I was just sharing with my sister last week how we have the opportunity to heal what our mom couldn’t. What our grandmother didn’t. What our father didn’t. Those feelings of unworthiness, that spirit of depression, victimhood, fear, addiction, poverty, etc. Not just for us, but for our lineage! Our daughters! Our sons! Our grandbabies!

This goes for all of us. We have the OPPORTUNITY to, as Carl Jung said, to face the unfaced and unfelt parts of our psyche. To stop putting more walls up and instead, start removing each wall, one by one as we allow the light of God to shine in those dark places.

We can come to a place where Spirit can heal another layer of that painful memory or trauma, removing some or maybe even all of the sting associated with it. Because if we keep our wounds in the dark, they aren’t likely to heal. Or if we just throw a band-aid on those gaping wounds, the pain will continue. The suffering will persist.

We have an opportunity — to resist the urge to keep striving for perfection, or thinking we have to put on flawless masks so others will think we’re perfect. Because I’ll be the first to admit I’ve got some “things” to work on. Still plenty of walls to tear down around this heart. Some tender wounds to acknowledge. Some ego to contend with.

And rather than continue to run, numb, or ignore these things, I’m regularly committing to slow down and relax. Get quiet. Still.

Unfold into a more authentic, loving, and compassionate servant of God.

Oooh, I love the sound of that. Sink down into an unfolding. Asking God for help. Leaning into grace. Not trying or striving to become “perfect” or whole. Not trying so hard to please others, fit the mold, “one up” everyone else.

That’s exhausting, right? How many of you are worn slam out?

Not living in victim mode either. But rather, sitting still. Breathing deeply. Going inside, and turning our attention to the One that lives within, whatever it is you call that One!

Waking up to the truth that we’re not separate from God. No, not really.

We’re all — it’s all — CONNECTED. We’re all part of the Divine!

Would You Look At This Mess!

Now, I’ll admit, life is messy. And I certainly don’t have much figured out.

But, life is also pretty darn glorious.

Life includes pain, but it also includes joy. And peace. And kind hearts. And moments that simply take our breath away.

Oh, the glory of just being alive to experience it all!

But how? And why do so many still struggle so intensely?

Must trauma and pain be a life-long sentence?

Maybe or maybe not. Or I should say, it depends. I deal with enough people who have had their share of trauma and suffering, and have made some progress when it comes to healing, but still suffer to various degrees. Perhaps it’s the ebb and flow of life.

I mean, I know enough to know that not everyone experiences total liberation, or emotional wholeness, enlightenment or spiritual bliss — at least not in this lifetime here on this planet.

So, what is it I’m getting at?

At this time of year, at this time in my journey, what’s God showing me?

No matter how old you are or what you’ve experienced, life is always full of opportunities

*to grow and evolve,
*to heal a little bit more,
*to discover passion and purpose,
*to connect and reconnect with others
*and fall more in love with this mysterious being we call God.

Despite the pain.

Despite the trauma.

Despite the shame, fear, regrets, grief, darkness.

Just as a beautiful flower is birthed in the damp, dark soil, under the surface, we too can be birthed anew somewhere along the journey of the dark night of the soul. With the literal working of the Spirit working on the inside, and us doing our part too, miracles can happen.

Hope can rise.

Faith can surface.

There’s always the potential for blooming.

There’s the potential for life, but first, the burying. First, the tomb.

There’s a worship song I love, that says,

“I was buried beneath my shame.
Who could carry that kind of weight?
It was my tomb, till I met You.
You called my name, and I ran out of the grave.
Out of the darkness into Your glorious day.”

And the crowd goes wild in joyous celebration, because of this revelation:

There is a God who loves me more than I can even fathom, despite my shame, despite my pain, despite everything, there is a God that I can actually come to know….a Kingdom within…a transcendental reality that can directly be experienced — and I don’t know how it all works, but this mystery…oh this mystery has captured my entire heart!

This revelation is what touches my spirit in a way nothing else can; no one else can, leaving it in a state of great peace, joy, and contentment.

I AM WORTHY of THIS kind of love.

And maybe I didn’t get it fully from my mom, or dad, or plenty of others along this journey because of unhealed wounds getting in the way. Or maybe I just couldn’t receive it at the time, but I’ve ALWAYS had it from God, and I always will.

See, my journey has taken me to plenty of places, but when I committed to digging up layer after layer into the innermost part of me, I didn’t find shame. Or regret. Or the lot of sins I’ve committed over the years. Or even self-actualization.

I straight up found God, in a fresh way.

A personal connection.
A passionate affection.
A committed relationship.

And this, my friends, as cliché as it sounds, is exactly what I’ve needed to fill my inner void. To calm my existential angst. To give me hope. To give me a newfound sense of passion and purpose.

And this is what calls me to a life of intentional purification — holiness, if you will. A fresh commitment. Not because I have to, but because I want to. Big difference!

Crawling onto the altar and saying,

“Ok, Spirit of God, burn out in me what is not for Your glory or the highest good of humanity. Strip away what holds me back. What keeps me selfish, apathetic, or afraid. Here I am, God. Siphon out this bitter chill in me and set me ablaze for You.”

The past few months I’ve increased my devotion to God through prayer, worship in song, meditation. Silent time set apart just to commune with the Divine. Separating from the world and fleshly pursuits for a season.

Listening.

This type of commitment might look similar or different for others. Some go off on a spiritual retreat. Some commit to fasting or a full detox from all technology. Some seek out a spiritual director. Some travel to remote areas of the world and immerse themselves in a different, simpler culture.

Regardless of the “how”, I believe those that will commit to doing the inner healing work and diligently following a spiritual practice will suffer less, despite what’s going on their lives. Now, I didn’t say never suffer; I said suffer less. Painful times will come, but we really do have access to the Comforter; the Spirit of God, who’s presence may be all that we need in such times.

As we approach a celebration of the birth of Jesus, and the New Year, my hope is that we’ll take an honest look at our lives — emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, socially, etc. And, allow God to show us Truth. Maybe we can sink down into an unfolding, with a humble spirit committed to a deeper communion with God.

And, while we’re at it, find a meaningful spiritual practice that suits us, and practice regularly.

May we sit with God in silence more often. Be less selfish and more giving. More compassionate by choice. Reach out for professional or spiritual help if necessary. Heal more wounds and hold space for others that are hurting.

As we do, dear ones, I just know we’ll grow and evolve in leaps and bounds, individually and collectively — showing up on this planet as God desires –as unconditional Love serving others in humility and compassion.

I want to close by a beautiful writing by Thomas Merton on the topic of contemplation on God:

“The utter simplicity and obviousness of the infused light which contemplation pours into our soul suddenly awakens us to a new level of awareness. We enter a region which we had never even suspected, and yet it is this new world which seems familiar and obvious. The old world of our senses is now the one that seems to us strange, remote and unbelievable. . . .

A door opens in the center of our being and we seem to fall through it into immense depths which, although they are infinite, are all accessible to us; all eternity seems to have become ours in this one placid and breathless contact. . . .

You feel as if you were at last fully born.”

So be it, my friends.