Okay, I have a confession to make. This is a tough one, so bear with me.
There was a period of time when I lived with a victim complex. Due to a series of unfortunate events, I slipped the victim T-shirt on one day and it fit pretty dang good. I didn’t take it off until sometime in the last year or so.
I wore it every day. Not many people knew it. I would whine to a few close friends, counselors and family members, but my pride kept me from advertising it too much. It’s very hard to balance a victim mentality with bluffing strength. Exhausting.
The victim-ness was for me. The toughness was for everybody else. And I had no idea how much it was affecting me until I finally took it off.
It reminded me of a broken bone. You know how your arm or leg looks after it’s been in a cast for a couple months? Weak from lack of use, pale, kinda gross. Yeah, that was my heart when the victim cast came off.
And I put it on for the same reason. My heart was broken. I needed to protect it and treat it with care. So I sealed it off and then secretly resented it for its uselessness.
I will say I was surprised to see it bounce back so quickly as soon as it was exposed to some sunshine and fresh air. It was pretty atrophied, but still beating and thrilled to be free. I mean, chomping at the bit.
And the day I decided I was done being a victim, my heart came flying out of the gate (ready or not) like a thoroughbred in the Kentucky Derby. Those animals were born to run. And my heart was made for LIFE, and everything that entails.
I’ve noticed that most addictions start out as coping mechanisms. Something horrible happens and it hurts really bad and we have to make the pain stop: alcohol, drugs, sex, etc. And the thing that starts out as our friend quickly becomes our captor.
And instead of fighting for freedom, we settle into our captivity as our new normal, our new identity. We even develop Stockholm syndrome and decide we’re okay with it and even kinda like it.
Those of you who have made friends with your addiction, hear me clearly: Your addiction does not love you. It does not care for you. I know it makes the pain stop, but it cannot heal you. It does not want you well.
Maybe you’ve cherished that abusive relationship with your addiction for many years. But Jesus came to set the captives free. No child of God was created for slavery. Our only true master is Christ Himself.
Galatians 5:1 says, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Paul was talking about the excessive laws and traditions that the Christians in Galatia had willingly signed up for that were choking the life out of their new faith. The principle still applies.
Jesus came to set the captives free.
So I was addicted to being a victim. It’s so embarrassing to admit. I didn’t even know that’s it was happening and I was horrified when I figured it out. I couldn’t get that T-shirt off fast enough.
One of my favorite parts of the Bible is John 21:21-22. Don’t recognize those verses? I’m not surprised. They’re pretty random.
Jesus has been resurrected and is getting ready to head Home. (Lucky.) He pulls Peter aside and starts telling him about all the rough stuff he’s going to face in his future. John is loitering nearby, eavesdropping.
“When Peter saw him, he asked, ‘Lord, what about him?’ Jesus answered, ‘If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.’”
I spent way too long saying to God, “What about him?”
Husband #1, husband #2, pastors, friends, family members, employers, (not just hims, some hers), whoever was wronging me at the time. It was THEIR fault I was the way I was: wounded, broken, useless, purposeless, hopeless.
God finally said, Hey, whatever I’ve got for that other person is really none of your concern. Their issues are between them and Me and I’ll deal with them in My own time. YOU take the high road. YOU do what you’re supposed to do. YOU follow Me.
Humph. I wasn’t thrilled with that response. I wanted justice. I wanted God to make them do what they’re supposed to do.
But He’s right. Regardless of what other people are doing, even doing to ME, I am to follow Him.
There’s a scene in one of the Narnia books. The kids are back in Narnia and they’re trying to get to the other side of this valley. There’s an obvious easy way that they all agreed on and then suddenly Lucy sees Aslan.
She excitedly tells the others he’s over there and wants them to follow him. The only problem is, nobody else can see him. (Seriously, guys? Have we not learned to listen to Lucy by now?) Aslan keeps motioning for them to come, Lucy keeps begging the others, but they don’t listen.
So they go the ‘easy’ way (with Lucy crying the whole time). They make it to the other side with more than a few crises that they would have avoided if they had followed Aslan. And then they see him.
Aslan looks at Lucy and says, “Why didn’t you follow me?”
Lucy starts crying again, points at the others, plays the victim card and tells him that she tried to make them but they wouldn’t listen to her. Again.
Aslan shakes his mighty head and looks deep into Lucy’s eyes, “No, child. Why didn’t YOU follow me?”
I don’t know if you’ve figured this out yet or not, but you can’t control other people. Not really. I mean, you can try. You can bully, manipulate, guilt, whatever. It may ‘work’ for a while. The relationship sucks, but at least they’re doing what you want, right? More likely, it won’t work at all.
No. You are only responsible for yourself. At the end of the day, you stand before God alone and answer for your actions.
And you know what? He’s not interested in all the other people you blame for not living the life you were called to. Regardless of their choices, you are called to follow Him. Whatever that looks like.
He knows your circumstances. He knows your obstacles. And He has provided a way for you to follow Him anyway.
You don’t have to wait for other people to get their act together. Your faith is not dependent on the faithfulness of others. YOU follow Him.
That victim addiction may feel like your friend. After life has beat you up a little, you might feel safer in that role.
You know where I went wrong? When my heart got broken, I tried to protect it myself. The victim mentality almost always starts as self-protection.
But the longer I live, the more convinced I am that protecting ourselves was never part of the job description of a Christ follower. That takes an enormous amount of time and energy that we can’t spare, if we’re chasing His purpose for our lives.
HE is our protector. HE is our healer. And when something breaks, our job is to take it to Him so He can protect it and heal it. Because His protection won’t suffocate or paralyze. We won’t be weakened by the healing process.
He doesn’t have to put us under anesthesia to put our hearts back together. He can heal us while we’re still living, moving, serving, loving. And as we go, we get stronger and stronger.
Then one day, we turn around and we’re well again. We didn’t lose any time. We didn’t waste any energy trying to hide or self protect. We didn’t opt out of life with our victim complex. And we were healed just the same.
So next time you’re wronged and you hear yourself demanding of God, “What about HIM (or her)?” hear the King of kings who also happens to be your perfect loving Father say, “Child, let Me deal with them. YOU follow me.” Leave it with Him.
And you may find yourself wandering through the store of self-pity. You may see the perfect victim T-shirt. You take it to the dressing room and try it on. It’s so soft and comforting. And it feels safe.
You walk out into the waiting area and show Jesus. He shakes His head and says, “It doesn’t fit. It’s not you. Take it off and let’s get outta here.”
Leave it behind. The enemy runs that store and we’re not buying what he’s selling.
Listen to me: You are not a victim. You do not need to protect yourself. You do not need to turn to the dangerous comfort of addictions or false identities to make the pain stop.
Keep your eyes on Him. Leave your broken heart in His mighty hands and keep going.
There’s a race to be run. And you’ll never run alone.
