One Saturday morning, after we had raked a mountain of leaves out of the driveway, my sister was hanging around hoping to drive my mother’s old car back into its place between the garage doors. My sister was in 7th grade, so my father, who had driven a car or tractor since he was 10 years old, thought since she was interested, that it would be a good time to let her begin to learn how to drive. She would only be moving the car back and forth in the driveway. What could go wrong? My mother had just gotten a new car, so the older Oldsmobile Delta 88 was to be parked outside. My father wanted my sister to place the car exactly between the two garage doors so that when my parents backed out, they wouldn’t hit it. So, she slowly pulled foreward, then backed up again, pulled up, and backed up again… this was not just perfectionism, she also wanted that little bit of extra time behind the wheel. Until the moment when she thought she had put the car in “R” and in fact it was still in “D.” When she realized that she was headed toward the fieldstone masonry wall, she panicked. She slammed both of her feet on the gas and the brake simultaneously. She lost control because the brake was no match for the giant 455 V8 Olds engine. Its nickname was the “Rocket.” The unequaled early 70’s muscle car torque careened that vehicle into the house so hard it pushed back the concrete and stone wall a few inches, Dad had to put extra jacks under the house to support the second floor. Interestingly, the Olds didn’t have a lot of damage, my sister however, was shaken up and felt terrible, vowing through tears to “never drive again!” My father felt badly for her too, thinking perhaps he may have jumped the gun on letting her drive that soon. He consoled her saying, “everything’s going to be okay.” In my immature sibling way, I teased her about it, making squealing tire and crash sounds for weeks afterward. She was resilient and did actually drive again in a couple of years. My father taught her to drive a stick shift, and she has had a pretty good driving record ever since.
Sometimes feeling shame and sorrow over our out of control actions can produce more maturity in our lives, but only if we humble ourselves under it and let it change us for good. Healthy shame comes from those who love us like God does and want to see us grow up rather than stay trapped in feelings of humiliation from past mistakes. Unhealthy shame comes from immature people who want to gain an advantage over us because of a mistake we have made. Paul was trying to teach the church at Corinth that shame/sorrow can be a good thing. We have to be careful not to let it lead us to make more mistakes. Paul told them, “I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance {i.e. “turn away” from their mistakes}.” (2 Cor. 7:9a). Then he says, “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.” (2 Cor. 7:10 NIV) At some point we will all be ashamed of something we have done because we are all “fallen.” We can let God grow us up and redeem us or we can get stuck in regret and more bad behavior. Let’s let the pain of shame always turn us back to Jesus.
Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!
