One thing human beings are notorious for avoiding is the truth. Unless, of course, the truth is that we are attractive, popular, or the latest winners of the Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes. Often, the truth comes with a sting attached, a pinch that makes it tough to swallow.
But, unless we are content with living in ignorance, knowing the truth is essential. The problem for most of us, what makes it so hard to receive, is how it is delivered.
For the sake of illustration, allow me to create a fictional, yet plausible scenario.
Alan Davids suffers with a condition. His breath is insufferable, only he doesn’t realize it. And he’s a close talker, loves to tell secrets. People avoid getting close to him. They hold their breath when he’s near. Every person in his office has noticed, but no one has bothered to tell him.
Until one day.
Rudy Reynolds decides enough is enough. He relays the truth in one of two ways:
- At lunch, in the busy staff cafeteria, he yells from across the room, “Dang, Alan. I can smell your stank mouth from way over here. I swear, you have the worst breath I have ever smelled in my life. I think its time you had a date with a Listerine bottle. Good Lord.”
- After lunch, he asks Alan to speak in private. He politely tells Alan about his breath, and how at times it is hard to hold a conversation with him. “I feel horrible bringing it up, but I don’t want your professional or personal life to be strained by this. I’d rather tell you than have you discover that people are talking behind your back.”
Neither scenario is comfortable. In fact, both could end badly, depending on Alan’s response, but what separates the two is the motivation. The first scenario is driven by pride and humiliation. The second, loving concern.
Motivation makes all the difference.
“If truth isn’t undergirded by love, it makes the possessor of that truth obnoxious & the truth repulsive.” – Ravi Zacharias Read More…
Have you ever said something that seemed so perfect in the moment, only to look back on it years later with disgust?
There I was holding the microphone, standing in front of about two hundred students. My task was to pick a few from the crowd to share their dreams for the future. My eyes fell on the girl waving her arms wildly from the front row. “What is your dream?” I asked.
“I’m want to be a singer. I want to sing in church.”
And then it hit me. Give these students a little taste of keepin’ it real. Show them how relevant you are. Oh boy.
See guys, I said. She doesn’t want to dress like a slut and dance around a stage like (insert pop sensation here). She wants to use her talent for God!
Cool, right? How pathetic. Sure, it got applause. It even caused an elderly lady towards the back to smile wide and pump her fists in excitement. But for what?
I still cringe when I think about it. That, folks, is how keepin’ it real goes so very wrong.