I looked into her eyes as she lied to me. I knew full well that she was lying. I watched the low-grade anxiety etch its way into little wrinkles of concentrated concern, as she studied my face with just enough abject displacement so as not to be perceived as studying my face, attempting to discern whether or not I was buying the story.
my disappointment grew as the tension in her face began to release and her words began to come with greater ease. Her words started to chase each other out of her mouth, racing in fear that a slower pace might subject them to enough scrutiny to be exposed as impostors of truth. I watched as a flash of fear darted through her eyes at the realization that she had left a discernible hole in her story, and and extraneous tangent was woven carefully, with pauses for the sake of “remembering” and tagged on to cover the holes.
I knew she was lying. I knew WHY she was lying.
but what struck my full force in the face, was not the slap of the betrayal of being lied to. No it was this ugly black tar-like thing bubbling up inside me, pretending to be righteous indignation.
closer scrutiny revealed that it was pride, plain and simple.
My pride was ANGRY!
“How dumb does she think I am? She actually believes that she’s getting away with this! She thinks that her deception is working! She thinks that she can manipulate you into giving her what she wants. You better set her straight! don’t let her think that she can get away with this!”
my pride wanted to be vindicated. it wanted her to know that I was smarter than her… or at least smarter than she thought I was. It wanted her to know that I knew she was lying. It wanted her to know that I was better than her, because I was not lying, and because I knew that she was.
A simple check in my spirit quietly said, “her lie is not the issue here today. you are not allowing yourself to be manipulated into giving her what she wants; you are choosing to give her what she needs. Today what she needs happens to be the same thing as what she wants.”
So I looked her in the eye as she lied to me. and I loved her anyway.
I looked her in the eye as she betrayed me. And I loved her anyway.
I looked her full in the face, as she tried to manipulate me. And I gave her what she needed and what she wanted anyway.
and how often, do you suppose, has Jesus done that for me?