I have been questioning what accountability means. And by questioning, I have really been pondering about the best ways to confront someone in their sin. What does it mean to keep someone accountable? How do I be a loving friend when someone is living blindly and foolishly? I ask these questions in my solitude and in return I hear, “You pick them up when they stumble. Fools do not listen. When the crash from their fall awakens them, they’ll see. Even if you help guide them, they are still blind. You wait for their eyes to be opened.”
I imagine myself hobbling down a dirt path with pot holes and rocks guiding my poor blinded friend. He pulls away, but I grasp on tightly, leading him to safety.
I am learning that accountability is not coaxing someone to confess to you, or pointing out wrongs, or even guiding the blinded, but rather it is transparency of oneself. It is a never ending account of myself to God through confession. I am small in this spot light called confession. It is easy to criticize and judge. Our eyes and ears are like magnets to darkness. We see deceit and destruction because we have seen truth and redemption. When I feel my eyes on my neighbor, glazed with judgement, I have to remember my own fall and I cannot help but turn my eyes to Jesus. And there I am, back in the spotlight of confession.
God is holy and just and he will do his own counseling and guiding and disciplining. I don’t have to judge, in fact, I cannot judge.
Accountability is not only confessing our sins to God, but to each other, so we may be healed. With confession comes prayer, and with prayer, healing. We were never meant to be alone. We are meant to live together in community and share our hardships, our heartache, our wisdom, our love. We are called to share our confessions of failure, confessions of doubt. When we are weak, He is strong.
“We are all parts of one body, we have the same spirit , and we have all been called to the same glorious future.”
God measures greatness with surrender and vulnerability. You cannot have intimacy without vulnerability . You cannot have vulnerability without opportunity . You cannot have opportunity without sacrifice. Empty yourself. This is the mission. This is why we were made. This is where we get joy. When our own selfish desires are laid down for a greater purpose we are fulfilled and in turn, we help fulfill the greater purpose. Your healing and joy are worth sharing; your heartbreak and suffering, even more. We can help each other be courageous, by sacrificing vulnerability. People come where there is light and joy. They knock if their eyes are open and can see. Open the door and say ‘yes’; Spend time and energy. Jesus was mighty in word and deed.
Hope in the glory of a future bigger than yourself.
I think back to the two people walking down the dirt path, arm in arm, one blind, one guiding. But when I take a closer look, I realize the blind man is myself. And the guide, myself. I am a friend and I am in need of a friend all the time.
Am I not blind?
I have heard the truths, I have seen joy in tragedy. I believe there is life after death and most importantly there was life before there was death.
I’ve made the journey from the desert of despair, I’ve seen the beauty of the garden of redemption. And with all of the miraculous things I have seen with my eyes, how many times have I shut the light out and chosen to see only darkness in front of me? I have hid away in my sorrow and discontentment, reluctant to walk in the joy that comes with Jesus. I have chosen words of death over words of life. I have chosen shame. I have chosen blindness. This is my account.
“The sun shall be no more your light by day, nor for brightness shall the moon give you light; but the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory.”
I choose to open my eyes. I choose to see the goodness before me. There are days it may just be the breath from my lips I am thankful for, or a far away promise that’s been buried. But, “Faithfulness grows from the ground, and deliverance looks down from the sky.”
Look up weary soul! Hallelujah, my eyes are open! How dare I shut them.