A Pilgrim's Friend

I’ve been accused of being old fashioned. Some people have an inner child; I have an inner 90 year old man who finds himself increasingly disoriented by modern sensibilities, popular sentiments, and trendy trends.

The nonagenarian is raging today for some reason and I want to let him cook. Here are some pieces of wisdom he thinks my generation doesn’t want to hear, but deeply needs to.

No one accidentally becomes godly.

Your story explains you, but it doesn’t excuse you.

Satan works by inches.

I’ve never regretted following the commands of Jesus Christ.

Every annoyance is a free workout for your patience.

Your wounds don’t erase your responsibility.

God loves you more than you sometimes want Him to.

Blame is a comfortable cage.

Life is messy, but you get to choose the mess: money, travel, homes, work, or people.

You can’t control what happened, but you can control what happens next.

Being rich is not having much, but wanting little.

Marriage is like the gym: it’s not there to make you comfortable, but different.

Feelings are reporters, not rulers.

Love isn’t something you feel, but something you do.

Don’t trade the Fountain for a water bottle.

People who only agree with you aren’t your friends, but your audience.

Consequences, suffering, and failure are great teachers. Stop skipping class.

Jesus is only sweet for those who know sin is bitter.

Unfollow your heart.

Feeling bad is not repentance.

There is no “my truth,” just the truth.

You suffer more in your imagination than you do in reality (HT: Seneca).

Small sins are big sins that haven’t grown up yet.

Own your dang junk.

Anxiety is a mild case of atheism.

Truth doesn’t win by popular vote.

Curating life is different than cultivating life.

Jesus is smarter than you so act like it.

A friend who’s unwilling to hurt you isn’t much of a friend.

Fear God and you’ll stop fearing everything else.

In relationships, use your mirror more than your magnifying glass.

Sincere doesn’t mean right.

Truth doesn’t care about your feelings.

Wants are not needs.

Authentic sin is still sin.

Your Bible should be more worn out than your excuses.

No one is obligated to agree with you.

Boring faithfulness makes a good life.

You married a sinner. So did your spouse.

Your calendar and your bank account tell everyone who you worship.

Nothing exposes a person’s theology like an election year.

Receive grace gently or you’ll face it violently.

Before you trust yourself, remember who made every mistake you regret.

Don’t excuse in yourself what you condemn in others.

You don’t need better circumstances. You need to be a better person.

You are not the main character.

Nobody owes you a life you didn’t build.

You don’t reach adulthood. You choose it.

Freedom isn’t avoiding your responsibilities. It’s fulfilling them.

Every responsibility you drop lands on someone else’s shoulders.

Habits beat intentions every day of the week.

Do the right thing, not the pleasant thing.

The road to good runs through hard.

Comfort is a gift, not a goal.

Rest to work; don’t work to rest.

Jesus is overqualified to be your copilot.

Contentment is a decision.

Live up to your vows.

Your spouse is your first sheep.

Care more about your family than your audience.

I can do all things through a verse taken out of context.

You only know who you are when you know Whose you are.

Now get off my lawn.

It’s easy to be unkindly honest and equally so to be dishonestly kind. Doing both at once is hard. It’s hardest when it matters most.

When everyone is behaving, honesty and kindness get along fine. But everyone sins, makes stupid decisions, and does destructive things from time to time. Our closest friends, church members, children, and spouses will need our help when they do. The more important the relationship, the more important it is to get this right.

Truth without kindness rarely gets heard. It provokes people to defensiveness, justifications, excuses, anything to protect themselves from the sting of shame. The gift gets rejected and often along with the person giving it. Kindness without truth fails in the other direction. It enables, encourages, and emboldens them to walk faster down their present path toward greater folly and misery.

We tend to treat honesty and kindness as two goods to balance, a little more of one here and a little less of the other there. It’s better to think of them as body and soul: distinct, yet united. Unkind honesty usually isn’t fully honest. It leaves out the truth about our own sin and the truth about their worth. Dishonest kindness isn’t really kind. It smiles, cheers, and waves while people we love walk toward misery. Truth and kindness, rightly understood, are inseparably united. That’s why Paul doesn’t tell us to balance truth and love. He tells us to speak “the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15). Honesty without kindness is a corpse. Kindness without honesty is a ghost.

If we get that right, we’ve a fighting chance to help the people we love the most.

But how?

Before You Speak the Hard Truth

Before you say a word, ask yourself four questions.

Is this actually sin?

Not everything that bothers you is wrong. People are allowed to be awkward and no one is obliged to obey your preferences or tiptoe around your pet peeves. If it rises to the level of sin or destructive folly, you’d better have verses. If it merely annoys you, let them be weirdos in peace.

Have I checked my perspective?

If you’re not sure, ask. Sometimes we’re too close to a person or situation to see it clearly. A wise, godly friend can help you tell a real problem from a personal irritation. Just guard against gossip. Ask one or two people, not five. Honor the person you’re asking about and share only what’s needed. Your goal isn’t to vent. It’s to get clarity on something you’re willing to bring to them directly.

Why do I want to say this?

James says our fights come from passions at war within us (James 4:1). So ask: if this is my strategy, what’s my desire? Do I want to embarrass them, shame them, or make them pay? Or do I want their good? The first is love of self dressed up as honesty. The second is love.

Am I calm enough to be heard?

It’s possible to see their sin clearly, truly want their good, and still not be ready to talk. If your emotions are raging within, your attitude, tone, and words will be too loud for them to hear the truth you’re offering. Wait. Pray. Take a walk. A right motive at the wrong moment still goes wrong.

When You Speak the Hard Truth

1. Go Privately and Go First

When we see sin, our impulse is to tell everyone except that person. Jesus offers the exact opposite counsel: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone” (Matt. 18:15). In other words, he should hear it from you before he hears about it from anyone else. Talk to him, not about him.

2. Use the Mirror Before the Magnifying Glass

Again, in our flesh, we tend to examine other people’s sins with a magnifying glass and give our own sins a quick glance in the mirror, if at all. And, again, Jesus reverses the order: “first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye” (Matt. 7:5). Notice, Jesus doesn’t forbid removing specks from the eyes of others, but actually wants it. What He knows, however, is that our ability to see and help our friends with their sin is hampered if we haven’t reckoned with our own. Logs don’t sharpen our vision.

There are two benefits from this. One, it will give you compassion for them in difficult times. As one pastor put it, loving difficult people gets easier when you remember you’re a difficult person to love too. Two, it will likely make them more receptive. If your friends know you as someone who owns and confesses your sins, they’ll likely be more open when you bring up theirs.

3. Gather Before You Give

God is omniscient. You are not. Before you jump to conclusions, do all you can to get more information and understanding. “If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame” (Proverbs 18:13). Ask before you tell. What happened? What were you thinking? How are you doing? Learning more may change everything. At the very least, it may change your tone. Either way, questions prove you came to understand and not merely to condemn. “The purpose in a man’s heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out” (Proverbs 20:5). It’ll likely help to draw it out.

4. Name the Behavior, Not Their Identity

Behaviors are about what someone does. Identity is about who someone is. Folks are much more open to considering errors they’ve made, but things get personal when you offer verdicts about their character. Being told, “You lied to me about where you were on Friday,” hits a whole lot different than, “Why are you such a liar?” The first is an observation. The second a verdict. Nathan’s story let David condemn the deed before he knew it was his own (2 Samuel 12:5–7). Describing behavior helps the person see it more clearly without their defenses clouding their vision.

5. Be Gentle

Jerks are unpersuasive. Mean people are easy to oppose. But “a soft tongue will break a bone” (Proverbs 25:15). Gentle words are much more powerful than hard ones. Take a seat. Keep your voice down. Control your face and your gestures. Leave no room for biting remarks, sarcasm, condescension that’ll weaken trust. Let your presence, tone, body language, and volume communicate love.

6. Aim at Restoration

Jesus’ instructions for what to do when a brother sins against you in the church are well known, but the reason for them is often missed. Why confront a brother with his sin? Why bring other witnesses? Not to belittle, shame, or punish him, but to gain him back. “If he listens to you, you have gained your brother” (Matt. 18:15). Similarly, the purpose of having hard conversations is rescue: the person from sin’s folly and the relationship from its strain. If you want to hurt their feelings, you shouldn’t have the talk. If you want to protect their joy and life, call them up.

7. Trust God to Work

It’s helpful to prepare yourself for the possibility that they may reject what you say. If they’re a fellow believer and they do, walk through the exact steps Jesus gives in Matthew 18:15–20. They may still reject it all. It happens. So before, during, and after hard conversations, remind yourself, “I can control my motives, words, and tone, but I cannot touch their heart; that’s God’s work.” Do your part and leave God the rest.

8. Stay After You Speak

Don’t let a hard conversation be the last conversation. A faithful friend sticks around after the hard conversation. If you need to rebuke someone, don’t ghost them afterward or you’ll confirm their fear that your love was conditional: they didn’t perform, so they’ve been cut from the roster of your friendships. Text them later. Invite them to dinner. Ask how they’re doing next week. Your truth may wound them, but your ongoing presence will help heal them.

True Love Speaks

Sometimes we think love should keep us from speaking hard words, but the opposite is true. True love for others compels us to speak good, hard words to them when needed. In fact, when we choose to stay silent about others’ sin, it reveals not the presence of love, but its absence. As Bonhoeffer wrote in Life Together, “Nothing can be more cruel than the tenderness that consigns another to his sin.”

Jesus never had to choose between kindness and hard words. John says He came “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). He told the woman at the well everything she had ever done and offered her living water in the same conversation (John 4:10, 16–18). He went further than any of us ever will. At the cross, the hardest truth about us and the greatest kindness toward us met in one place. God didn’t pretend our sin was fine and He didn’t leave us in it. He told the truth about it and paid for it Himself.

That’s what frees us to speak. Every Christian has already heard the hardest word about themselves and been loved through it. We don’t need to win because we’ve already been forgiven. We can’t stay silent because we’ve seen what love does with sin and are called to extend that love to others. Love doesn’t ignore sin, but deals with it. In Christ, honesty and kindness were never a corpse or a ghost, but flesh and blood.

Speaking hard words in love is never easy, is often uncomfortable, and always requires wisdom. Yet true love enters that discomfort and difficulty hoping to set a brother’s feet on solid ground.

Your enemies will kiss you in your folly, but your true friends are those willing to wound you in love (Proverbs 27:6).

Seek those friends. Be that friend.

Accountability.

We all use the word and have a feeling it’s important. It’s demanded of our politicians, pastors, bosses, referees, spouses, and children, yet many of us conveniently avoid applying it to ourselves. Most of us couldn’t define it if asked, to our great harm.

Let’s fix that.

What Is Accountability?

Merriam-Webster defines accountability as:

“An obligation or willingness to accept responsibility or to account for one’s actions.”

The word account, right in the middle of the definition, began as a bookkeeping word. An account was a reckoning of money received and paid, the kind of record kept in the ledgers of a counting house. Over time the word grew from giving an account of one’s money to giving an account of one’s life.

Imagine yourself standing before others and the book of your life is opened and you have to read it aloud. In that picture, you are giving an account. Accountability is taking ownership of the words and actions you’ve chosen.

What Accountability Requires

From the definition we can note a few essential characteristics of accountability.

1. It’s owed

Accountability is an obligation. It isn’t a favor, option, gesture, or gift. It is a demand, duty, and responsibility you owe to others: your spouse, boss, pastor, friend, and God. These are the parties that are owed your accounting of your actions. You’re obliged to open your books to them.

2. It’s owned

Accountability is to accept responsibility. Ever since the Garden, Mankind has been adept at dodging our duties. To lessen or avoid the consequences of sin, Adam blamed Eve and even God. Eve blamed the snake (Genesis 3:12-13). We’ve followed suit ever since. Blame-shifting comes naturally to our Bent Race. Accountability cuts against the grain of our deepest impulses. Owning our actions – starting the sentence with “I” and never getting to a “but” – is an essential ingredient of accountability.

3. It’s spoken

Remember, to account means to read the book aloud so others know the record. It isn’t silence or a feeling, but a statement of one’s record. What exactly do we account for? Not our feelings, circumstances, intentions, influences, or other people, but our actions. “I’ve been struggling” is a description. “You had a mean tone” is an accusation. “I was wrong to shout at you” is an account.

4. It’s wise

The definition says accountability is either an obligation or a willingness. If we’re fools and don’t like giving an account, too bad, it’s our duty. If we’re wise and want to live and love well, accountability will be our desire.

To better understand its wisdom, consider its benefits.

What Accountability Offers You

The book of Proverbs has high praise for accountability and those who choose it. “Whoever heeds instruction is on the path to life” (Proverbs 10:17) and “he who listens to reproof gains intelligence” (Proverbs 15:32). What about those who dodge it? “He who hates reproof is stupid” (Proverbs 12:1). Solomon’s words, not mine.

If we’re being honest, I probably like accountability a lot more as a topic than I do an experience. When I am asked a hard question or a flaw of mine is pointed out, my first instinct is usually to dodge, deny, defend, or deflect it by blaming something or someone else; but with good manners, of course.

So, yes, accountability doesn’t feel good, but it is good.

It will cause you to make better choices.

A choice you know you will have to explain will always be better, in quality and morality, than one you think nobody will ever know about. People use their phones or internet differently when their browsing history is tracked, don’t they? Taking accountability seriously will help you avoid making choices you may one day regret.

It will cause you to do better work.

We work best when we know we will have to present our work. Any teacher can tell you that once a student knows an assignment won’t be graded, he won’t do it well, if at all. Doing all your work as if you’d have to answer for it will help you avoid slacking, skimming, or cheating and instead constantly push you to do your best work.

It will enrich your relationships.

Healthy relationships run on trust. Dodge accountability for your actions and no one will trust you. Own your junk and they will.

Take friendship. Your friend says, “I feel like I only hear from you when you need something.” You blame work or general busyness and he changes the subject. But, the next time he has good news, you won’t be the one he calls. If you instead say, “You’re right. I’m sorry,” you’ll keep a friend who knows you’ll tell him the truth even if it hurts you a little.

Take parenting. Imagine sending your son to his room for snapping at his sister an hour after he watched you snap at his mother without acknowledging it or apologizing for it. Kids are lousy at hearing lectures and excellent at spotting a double standard. But, if you apologize to his mother and own your double standard first, then your correction and character carry weight.

Take marriage. Think of your spouse telling you, “When you kept correcting my story in front of our friends, it embarrassed me.” You can deny it: “I wasn’t correcting you.” You can deflect: “You do the same thing to me.” You can defend: “I was just trying to get the details right.” Each of those chips away at trust. Or you can say, “I hate that I did that and how it made you feel. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?” and your spouse learns it’s safe to be honest with you because you’ll be honest with yourself.

Our world is filled with blamers, justifiers, and excusers. A friend, parent, or spouse who owns their actions stands out like a fireplace on a cold night: someone people notice, draw near to, and find safety with. In relationships, your lack of accountability puts up walls. Your embrace of it opens doors.

It will focus you on God.

Horizontal accountability to others becomes all the more important when we remember that one day, “each of us will give an account of himself to God” (Romans 14:12). Embracing accountability in daily life with people will make us ready to account for all of life before God. This word is a reminder that one day the book of our life will be opened and we will have to read it.

Hopefully you can see that though the path of accountability sometimes has rough ground, it always leads to a glorious place.

Accountability Unto Joy

Here’s the hard part: every book ends in the red, not the black. Not yours. Not mine. Honestly read, all our books reveal a debt we cannot pay.

But, there’s good news. Christ took your book and answered for every line. “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin” (2 Corinthians 5:21). God canceled “the record of debt that stood against us” and nailed it to the cross (Colossians 2:14). You will still stand before the judgment seat of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:10), but your verdict was read before the book was opened: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). You will give your account, Christian, but you will never have to pay for it. As the hymn says, “Jesus paid it all.”

But, some may think, if the bill is paid, why keep the books? Paul answers, “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). Grace doesn’t cancel accountability. It raises the stakes. A man forgiven a debt he could never pay doesn’t hide his ledger from the One who paid it. He opens it gladly because every honest line is a reason for praise.

Before the cross, accountability is a threat. After the cross, it’s worship.

One day your book will be opened, so live with it open now.

Correction is a valuable gift that often comes in ugly wrapping. The paper is sharp and it cuts your hands going in. There is life inside, but only the person who actually wants the good is brave enough to tear it open.

Most of us never get that far. Rather than admit we simply do not want the discomfort of being told we are wrong or that we are doing something poorly, we invent reasons to walk away from the package altogether.

I want to list the most popular strategies we (often unknowingly) use to ignore correction, but first let me grant what is true. Not every criticism is correct. Some people hand you rocks and call it gold. Tone really does affect how well we hear things and a man who ignores his own faults really has given you a reason to wonder about his judgment. None of that is imaginary. The trouble is that we almost never raise these objections while we are weighing a criticism. We raise them after we have already decided to refuse it. For many, these things are not reasons as much as they are excuses.

However, for others, there is one more thing to say. Not every hard thing we hear is genuine correction. Some are just cuts meant to hurt. If that is your situation, or you suspect it may be, you should read what follows with a friend beside you who can help you tell the difference.

Our Clever Tactics to Avoid Correction

“I don’t think they’re right.”

This is the only one on the list that deserves to be taken seriously on its own terms, so it goes first. You may be right. The correction may be false. But notice that you do not know that yet. “I don’t think so” is not verification. It is a hunch that’s often supported by your own biased interests.

So instead of rejecting outright, verify. Could any part of it be true? If so, wouldn’t you want to know? Take it to people you trust to tell you uncomfortable things, not the ones who affirm you. Affirmers are cheap and they are everywhere. What you need is one or two friends who love you enough to say, “Yes, that is you, I have watched you do it” or who know you well enough to say, “Nope, that ain’t true.” Then you will better know what to keep and what to throw out and have far more confidence in both than you have right now.

Do that first. Every excuse below only has power if this question stays open.

“Their tone was rude.”

How wise is it to reject something valuable because of how it was handed to us? You would still take the bonus from a boss who gave it to you impolitely. If you were starving, you would still eat the meal the offensive waitress set down. The more valuable the gift, the more willing we ought to be to overlook its delivery.

Yes, a hard word delivered well is easier to hear and the man who corrected you may owe you an apology for how he did it. Take that up with him later. In the moment, your job is to focus on the thing he said. Your question is whether it is true, not whether he was pleasant.

“He’s got his own issues too!”

Maybe so. What do his imperfections have to do with yours? A sick doctor can still hand you medicine that saves your life. He may even have handed it to you because he knows the disease well from his own experience.

His hypocrisy is a real problem and it is his. Yours is still yours.

“Not all of that is true.”

A pound of gold mixed in a bag of rocks is still worth keeping. Throw away the rocks. Keep the gold. If a pound of truth sits inside one hundred pounds of falsehood, has the truth stopped being valuable?

This is the excuse that feels the most reasonable and does a lot of damage because it lets you throw out the one thing you can’t disprove and deeply need. Sorting is work. Dismissing is escape. Unfortunately, we love to run.

“They don’t really care about me.”

They may not. They may actually hate you. What does that have to do with loving yourself enough to improve? A diamond given to you by an enemy is still valuable. Choosing to impoverish yourself won’t hurt him.

Truth does not become false because of who speaks it.

“Acknowledging my shortcomings hurts too much.”

Sometimes it hurts a great deal. So does surgery. But, becoming healthy is worth the pain so we choose the scalpel. Value health over comfort. Value growing over protecting yourself. Take the hard truth now instead of the much harder outcome waiting for you if you keep running from it.

The pain is real. It is also the only door.

Christian, You’ve Already Opened the Hardest Wrapping

This is wisdom every person should value. For the Christian it is ultimate. Our salvation hangs on it:

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9

Confession is correction accepted. It is agreeing with God about what we are. Which means that if we don’t touch the painful wrapping of our sin we miss the treasure of Christ himself. If we will not admit we are sinners, we will never receive a Savior. The very pain we dodge stands between us and the joy of being restored to God.

The Christian life begins with embracing the hardest correction there is. We have all sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom. 3:23), the wages of that sin is death (Rom. 6:23), and we cannot fix a bit of it ourselves. That is the first paper we have to tear to receive the gift of the gospel. Shame isn’t the goal, but health is. Jesus said it plainly: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick” (Luke 5:31). If I don’t embrace the reality of my sin sickness, I’ll never run to Jesus as my Doctor.

The work of admitting our sins does not stop at the cross either. Sanctification is not graduation from correction. The Lord disciplines the ones he loves (Heb. 12:6) and true friends will wound you for your good (Prov. 27:6). Repentance is an everyday activity for even the most seasoned saints. Paul, late in his life and further along than any of us, wrote “Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on” (Phil. 3:12). No Christian has arrived and none of us should act like we have.

Grace is what makes any of this bearable. You are not tearing the paper to find out whether you are acceptable. In Christ you already are and that is exactly why you can afford to open the painful gift and be enriched by it.

Tear the Paper

I understand the reflex to deny, justify, or avoid correction altogether. Criticism never feels good. We want to be good and hearing that we are falling short is painful. But, ask yourself which you want more: to feel good or to be good. Choose the first and you will become skilled at deflection and stop growing. Choose the second and you will go looking for the very thing you have been avoiding.

So go looking. Name the criticism you have been dodging. Listen to the friend who loves you enough to say the hard thing instead of the one who will only tell you that you are fine. Keep the gold, throw out the rocks, and thank the man who handed you the package no matter how badly he wrapped it.

The paper is ugly. What is inside is life.

Following Jesus involves a lot of intentional learning and a lot of intentional unlearning. Believers need their thoughts, feelings, and actions continually renewed by the life-giving truth of God’s Word and freed from the soul-destroying untruths of the world that still linger within us. Like any garden, the believer’s soul needs plenty of planting, watering, and weeding if it is to flourish.

For the growing work, learning about the nature of sanctification and developing habits of grace are essential. It’s hard to be nourished by a work you don’t know about or to use tools you’re unaware of. However, my aim in this piece is to answer a different question: What are the forces working against our sanctification that may be hindering or derailing our maturation, growth, or increasing joy in Christ? Said another way, what are Satan’s tools to disciple us away from Jesus?

I wrote this initially to be a list, but the first tool in Satan’s hand was so significant, I chose to focus on it alone and leave the others for later. From my experience of life and ministry in 2026, I think this is one of the most significant tools Satan uses to slow or stop our growth in Christ.

Hell’s Cheerleaders

Aristotle famously noted that friendships generally fall into three categories. First, there are friends of pleasure whom we like because they’re always a hoot. Second, there are friends of utility whom we value because of how they help us with things we can’t do well without them. Third, there are friends of virtue whom we love because of who they are. We don’t love them merely because they make us laugh or lighten our load, but because their character is trustworthy, their love is steadfast, and their wisdom is sound. These friends are the best because they’ll love us toward all things true, good, and beautiful.

We’ve a knack for choosing the first two kinds of friends. It makes sense why. We love to laugh and be helped. There’s nothing wrong with those things per se. But pleasing or helpful friends aren’t necessarily friends who will help us become the people we ought to be. Those aren’t bad friends, they’re just not good enough. They’ll help our circumstances, but not our souls.

Unfortunately, we don’t only gravitate toward the first two kinds of friends, but we tend to avoid the third kind because they’ll love you more than you want them to. If you’re acting a fool, making poor decisions, or desiring stupid things, these kinds of friends will tell you. If your boyfriend isn’t good for you, they’ll let you know. When you’re acting on feelings instead of facts, they’ll challenge you. To their credit, if you hurt them they won’t talk to others about it, but, to your grave discomfort, they will talk to you about it. These folks will love you enough to get in your face when you’re being an idiot. And, though it is good, it won’t feel good. If you’re dedicated to always being affirmed, you’ll avoid these kinds of friends like the plague. But avoiding them is choosing a plague that will harm you far more than the momentary discomfort you’re trying to escape.

To see why such friends may be worth the cost of occasional discomfort, consider for a moment how many of life’s greatest regrets trace back to choices we wish we had made differently. How nice would it have been to have someone who loved you enough to tell you at those moments, “You’re being an idiot. Don’t do this.” Would it have hurt? No doubt. Would it feel great? Not at all. But would it have been a blessing you later thanked them for? Absolutely.

If it would have been good to have those friends then, wouldn’t you want to have them now?

The Unlove of Unconditional Affirmation

Contrary to the world’s preaching, true love is not ceaseless affirmation, but a devotion to all things true, good, and beautiful and a commitment to always love you toward those ends, especially in the times when you’re tempted to take a detour.

I hope you remember this: Satan wants you to have lots of friends, but only a certain kind: unconditional cheerleaders who confuse loving you with affirming everything you do. He wants you surrounded by people who will cheer you on, especially in the moments when you’re sprinting toward a cliff’s edge. At any given time, Satan is happy to make sure you have an ample supply of Hellish Cheerleaders who will affirm, applaud, support, and validate your dumbest ideas, worst desires, and most destructive decisions.

The problem isn’t unconditional love. The problem is unconditional affirmation. True friends can love you regardless of what you do while still refusing to affirm everything you do. In fact, loving someone means refusing to affirm what is destroying them. Sometimes loving someone means telling them the thing they desperately don’t want to hear.

If you’d rather not live that kind of life, then what should you do? I think it’s fairly simple: make a decision today to pursue, collect, and keep close the third kind of friend: people whose character is admirable, whose choices are wise, and whose commitment to Jesus and to all things true, good, and beautiful is greater than their commitment to your comfort.

Not unconditional cheerleaders, but trustworthy companions.

Jesus is the kind of friend who forgives the sins you’ve committed. These are the kind of friends who will help you avoid the ones you haven’t yet.

I feel scared, a lot. As a teacher, I have begun many semesters thinking, “What am I getting myself into? What if I fail?” I have driven to many meetings feeling like an ulcer was forming in my stomach because I knew the conversation was going to be hard and the person might hate me afterward. Many times, I have sat sweating and nauseous in the front row as the last song played before I ascended the pulpit to preach. As a husband and father, sometimes I lie awake in bed many hours into the night dreading the thought, “Am I helping or hurting my girls?” It’s brutal. It sucks. But though terrified and often trembling, I continue to push through these responsibilities and work with all my might to do these good, scary things.

I used to be ashamed of myself for this struggle. I’ve labored under the assumption that, if I was doing things right, I wouldn’t have such a hint of such discomfort, but I’d sail from one day to the next in sunshine and peaceful waters. Now that I’ve surfaced the assumption, I recognize it can’t possibly be true. Mighty (and mostly faithful) King David openly admitted, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Psalm 56:3). The Apostle Paul confessed he came “in weakness and in fear and in much trembling” (1 Corinthians 2:3). Even Jesus experienced profound anguish. In the Garden of Gethsemane, facing the cup of suffering before him, he was “deeply distressed” and troubled in soul (Mark 14:33). The presence of fear itself isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Jesus experienced fear, yet he prayed, “Not my will, but yours be done” (Mark 14:36). The bad thing isn’t being afraid. The bad thing is when we allow our fear to keep us from doing good, from trusting and obeying God in the moments it matters. Fear isn’t the problem. Being ruled by fear is.

Instead of being bullied and cowed by fear, be courageous. Courage is the skill of doing the good thing even though it scares the bejesus out of you. If a bear is charging you, be afraid and run. That’s good and wise. It’s fear working as it should. But if fear is tempting you to run from the needed conversation, the necessary confession, the good work, the crucial forgiveness, or the fruitful opportunity, then stay the course and do the scary, good thing.

As you do, be encouraged to know that though courage is necessary now, it won’t always be. One day we will see this life for what it is, the work of God’s hands, and we will finally understand that in all the days that required courage of us there was nothing to be afraid of. There never had been. There never again will be.

In the meantime, your life has been and will be scary. Courage, dear heart. Plow onward toward that good and faithful thing and trust God is not asleep.