Site icon Faith in the Struggle

When I Got Punched in the Face

Then the two men returned. They came down from the hills and passed over and came to Joshua the son of Nun, and they told him all that had happened to them. Joshua 2:23

When I was a kid, my friends and I had just bought some pea shooters at the dime store downtown, when I promptly went up behind an older kid and shot him at close range in the back of the neck. It apparently stung quite a bit, because he yelped in pain and turned around to punch me in the face. I don’t remember that it hurt, and it didn’t leave a mark, but I was shocked. Teary-eyed, I rode my bike home to tell my mother about the boy who was mean to me. I relayed my story, but she could tell I was leaving something out. So, he just hit you for no reason? Only then did I mention the pea shooter after which she was less sympathetic than I’d hoped.

We all have an inherent bias when telling our own story. We desire to the control our narrative so that we may control what others think of us. During my second major attempt at getting sober, I had a chemical use assessment to determine my need for treatment. I wanted as little treatment as possible, so I minimized my drug use, admitting to as little as possible. I wanted to paint a picture of a small problem that required a small intervention. So, I skipped over some details, telling only the parts I thought were necessary.

This is complete speculation on my part, but I’ve got to wonder if something similar happened in today’s passage. In the story, the two spies sent by Joshua to Jericho were saved by a prostitute, Rahab, when the king’s men came searching for them. Upon escaping the city, the spies returned to Joshua to tell their story. At some point, I’d bet someone had to ask – Wait. What were you doing at the prostitute’s house? The passage doesn’t explain why they stayed with a prostitute. Maybe Rahab ran the only Inn in Jericho, but still, I bet those spies had to do some explaining to someone back home.

This inherent bias in telling our own story is the reason we need peer accountability. We’re all quite skilled at recognizing the flaws in someone else’s story, while we often remain blind to our own. In recovery, we’re taught to meet regularly with others who will call out our blind spots. This isn’t just for those in recovery though. In church, we often promote small groups, which should serve the same role. If we desire to be honest with ourselves and others, it’s necessary to seek out relationships with those who can see through our manipulation, and who’re willing to call us out on it. That’s what true friends do.

Exit mobile version