An ‘agreement’ is a faith statement. It is faith in the wrong thing…in a lie, not the truth. I confess with my mouth what I believe in my heart. It is the ugly twin of Vows, for the two are commonly found together
Here are some of the agreements we make:
“I’m stupid.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“I’m fat.”
“I’m ugly.”
“I’m accident prone.”
“I’m so co-dependent.”
“I’m unlovable.”
On and on it goes.
These statements don’t originate with us. They aren’t even true, yet we often agree with them as indisputable facts.
Why on earth would we do such a thing? And, where did these ‘truths’ come from?
Sadly, they often begin with our parents. In a moment of anger they may say something like, “Come here, you little idiot. I’m gonna give you what for.”
I could give examples ad nauseum, but I’ll spare you.
Other agreements are made in the aftermath of a painful situation (not unlike vows).
In the fifth grade, I was yanked from a school I loved when we moved to another town. During my final week in that class, the teacher introduced us to the music of Simon and Garfunkel. Their song, “I Am a Rock,” became my life song. It met the needs of my breaking heart.
Well, let’s look at the lyrics:
A winter’s day
In a deep and dark December
(for me it was October)
I am alone
Gazing from my window
To the streets below
On a freshly fallen, silent shroud of snow
I am a rock
I am an island
I’ve built walls
A fortress, steep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
Friendship causes pain.
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain.
(Have no friends. Check)
I am a rock
I am an island
Don’t talk of love
Well, I’ve heard the words before
It’s sleeping in my memory
And I won’t disturb the slumber
Of feelings that have died
If I never loved, I never would have cried
(Don’t love, or let people love me. I will get hurt again. Check)
I am a rock
I am an island
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room
Safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me
(Isolate. Read, protect myself with {music for me} Check)
I am a rock
I am an island
And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries
(I’m sick of being hurt. Sign me up.)
© 1965 Words and Music by Paul Simon
At ten years of age, I decided that all people did was hurt me. I didn’t need people. I didn’t need love, and I didn’t ever want to cry again. Whenever something painful happened, I would withdraw to the safety of my ‘womb’ and shut everyone out.
I still had five moves after this most-hated one to survive during childhood. It was much easier with the ‘armor’ of this song as my shield. I no longer sought to make friends at the new locations. Eventually, I no longer felt lonely.
By the time I was in high school, I knew neither how to make nor keep friends. By then, everyone had their own ‘set’ anyway, so it didn’t matter. I buried myself in books, crafts and especially in making music. I preferred to be alone.
At the same time, I had a huge hole in my heart that my father should have filled. Well, father gave that job to another man. My step-dad filled it all right – with many more statements like those at the beginning of this article. Because he was an adult, and supposedly loved me, I believed him.
Why would he lie to a child?
One by one, I came into agreement with his assessment of me as a human. Some of them I accepted with bowed head, others I determined to overcome (by making a vow).
He loved to call me ‘stupid’ – or ‘Stu’ for short. I vowed to become smart, and used my isolation to learn all I could about many things. I learned about things I cared about, and things I didn’t, just so he couldn’t call me stupid anymore. That didn’t work, by the way.
Do you know what endoplasmic reticulum is? (Do you even care? 😉 )
After I got out from under his tyranny, I took over where he left off and agreed with whatever label came to mind.
I ask again, why would a person do such a thing? As a (wo)man thinks in (her) heart, so is she. My words became a self-fulfilled prophecy.
These agreements stayed with me for 35 years. I was 45, without a friend in the world, in a loveless marriage, and unable to connect with others. That’s a pitiful state in which to find oneself. My mom died that year. A year and a half later, I parted ways with my step-dad, and healing began.
It’s time we began to take these thoughts captive. Let’s hold them up to the truth of who God says we are, and quit agreeing with those who would steal, kill, and destroy us through their words.
God is not honored when we accept these lies about His workmanship as truth.
Do we even stop to ask, “IS THIS TRUE??”
I’ve quit agreeing with others’ opinions about me. I’ve had enough. There is only One who knows me, and He calls me “Beloved” and “Delightful.” He calls me His own, and “Chosen.” Since He knows me better than anyone else…including me…I’m going to agree with Him.
*****
Tune in to the next post to learn why I am no longer willing to accept another human’s assessment of me…and why you shouldn’t either: