When my boys were little, I watched a phenomenon play out so
many times that I'm sure it's an infallible truth: If they
are playing and their father shouts from the sidelines, they
hear him. Over every other voice, they heard their dad. Most
times, they would execute the play or correct their position
accordingly. They trusted him and they responded out of that
trust. They heard him above all the other voices, especially
above the negative voices or those whose messages were
counter to his.
Recently, I've encountered the criticism and disdain of
someone who matters to me. It's never easy to hear criticism
or to have to sift through angry words spoken in the heat of
the moment. And women's hearts can be broken by stony
silences. Some lessons are harder than others to learn.
Learning to handle criticism well is one lesson I've taken my
time to master.
Sometimes, we have to experience the same ache in different
places before we can begin to heal the disease at its root.
This time, I look at the familiar landscape that is the
negative reaction of someone and I see it a new way. Maybe I
do that because the familiar voice that has called out to my
boys from the sidelines is one that I hear, too. My husband
speaks truth into my confusion over relationships. The grace
of marriage is real and alive. Maybe I see it differently
this time because a dear mentor has echoed my husband. Or
maybe it's that I've looked God square in the eye and finally
recognized that to respond in the old way - to let someone's
criticism of me destroy my own self-image and erode my peace
of heart - is to be controlled by someone other than God.
Probably, it's all of the above.
Criticism stings, especially for those of us who are
tenderhearted and who pour out ourselves for families and
friends. It is excruciating to have the earnest endeavors of
our hearts be met with contempt. There is no denying that it
hurts. There is also no denying that it happens. When we
engage in the messiness of relationships, we lay ourselves
vulnerable to being condemned by both the people close to us
and the people who judge us from afar.
Upon first receiving criticism, we have to first weigh it,
sift it, and thoughtfully consider it. Is there a grain of
truth there? Is there something for which we should
apologize, something we need to amend? Then, we pray for the
grace and strength to make things right.
Sometimes, though, criticism comes from a place of the
critic's sin. Their insecurities, their immaturity, their own
self-doubt rush at us in a barrage of ugliness or
impenetrable silence. From their own place of pain, they hurt
us.
The response? St. Paul tells us, "There is now no
condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus," (Rom 8:1).
To test a criticism, hold it up to that light. If Jesus
doesn't condemn us, we aren't condemned. Set free by Christ,
we have to live apart from the bondage of other people's
opinions and even their hurtful accusations.
The reality is that we are responsible for our own
self-images. Women tend to see themselves in the reflections
of how they perceive others see them. That is one distorted
image. When we allow the unhealthy evaluation of other people
to shape our own view of ourselves, the understanding of our
very core is warped. With time and practice, we can let go of
the grip that criticism has on us and, instead, practice
receiving God's unconditional love. If we are walking in
biblical truth and living lives open to His real grace, it is
the voice of the Father heard above the crowd that brings
peace to our souls.
Foss, whose website is elizabethfoss.com, is a freelance
writer from Northern Virginia.