How Men Get Stuck
Moving past yourself and into community
When I was in kindergarten, I begged my parents for a pair of camouflage pants. Many of the other kids had them, and I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted them too. Apparently this reflex starts very early in a man’s story. The fig leaf response to deficiency is ancient. My dad is a Vietnam veteran, so we didn’t hunt very often, but that didn’t matter. I needed these pants. My folks had little to no disposable income at the time. Still, somehow, they bought me a pair of those pants.
At five years old, you don’t think much about the details. These pants were 100% authentic. They didn’t have a snap closure like the kid version. The waist was held together by a button the size of an olympic medal pushed through an opening the size of a needle. I could have reported to Camp Lejeune in these things. This small, insignificant closure detail would mark me for the rest of my adolescence and early adulthood. During nap time, we had to wait our turn for the bathroom. We had a one-holer, and there were 20 of us. These kinds of situations require crowd control. By the time I closed the door, it was too late. Standing there attempting to unbutton those pants, I wet them. Left leg, dry. Right leg, dark and damp. It’s one of the first moments I remember shame entering my story. I must have burned through an entire roll of toilet paper behind that bathroom door in my attempt to dry them.
That afternoon, when I piled into the family van with my dad and brother for the ride home, I remember the glance they exchanged. It was familiar to me because we had a dog that had marked our carpet a time or two.
I smelled of urine, and they knew it.
I tried my best in that moment to disappear into that maroon bench seat in our Astro van. Houdini reborn. But, it’s hard to camouflage after you’ve pissed your pants. It seems obvious to me now, but then, then it was a reaction I couldn’t help. Even now, it’s a hard reaction for me to fight. In some meetings, in some conversations, in some exchanges with my wife, I go right back to that place. I’m embarrassed of my inability to make something work. I’m embarrassed of the smell of my failure. It’s a place that calls out the worst in me. It’s a place of exclusion. This is what the agreement of a man who becomes friendly with shame sounds like:
Because of what I’m covered in, they will never let me in.
Exclusion sucks. There’s no way around it. And, we convince ourselves there’s no way through it. Jesus, however, tells us differently. At five years old, I’m sure Jesus would have told me, “So you peed your pants. You’re still my son.” Acceptance. Beautiful acceptance. In contrast, acceptance based on performance is the instruction manual on how to produce an addict. It’s the only acceptance that most of us know. But, it doesn’t have to be.
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.
// Hebrews 4:15–16
Our acceptance is based on how Jesus defines us, not what our circumstances have taught us. The way he defines us was gracious from the start, but the writer of Hebrews is here pointing out to us that, based on his time as human, the compassion of Jesus towards us has only increased. Distance from God does not bring peace. There are millions of men, right now, who need to hear this. Running head-long into what we believe is a peaceful distance from God we find our destination cold, dark, and empty. In short, the opposite of God.
It’s within arm’s reach of God’s throne of grace that we find two essential things. One is passive. The other, active. The order here, I believe, is intentional. First, men, we must receive from God. We must receive his mercy. God offers a mercy over our stories that we could never manufacture ourselves. It is a mercy that labels us accepted. Once we have received the strength this grace pushes into us, then we will have the fuel needed for the rest of the journey to self-awareness.
You will have to fight, at times, to discover the grace you need to help you when the heat turns up. So many of us, ashamed and weak, give up this fight. This is why the rediscovery of grit in the lives of men is so essential. Without this initial grit, we don’t journey into the forest deep enough to find God. It’s time we stop accusing God of being distant and start doing what it takes to develop the discipline to actually find him.
Before you go…
Take in the reality of Jeremiah 29:13. Pay attention to the heart language it uses. Then, listen to this week’s podcast and learn more about moving out of shame and into community.
You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the LORD, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the LORD, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile. Jeremiah 29:13
