On Lying and Forgiveness

Our almost four-year-old has started lying. I know in my head that this is a typical development at this age--and just another manifestation of his sin nature--but wow, I wasn't prepared for how unnerving it would be to watch my beloved son look me straight in the eyes and tell a boldface lie without even a flinch.

Yesterday I walked into the dining room to see the blinds raised all the way to the top. We never leave them this way, so I asked Drew if he had been playing with the blinds (he knows he is not supposed to do this). "No," he responded, casually, "I didn't do it." I questioned him again but he stuck to his story. Now, there are only four people in our family: I knew I hadn't done it, it certainly wasn't the baby, and a quick trip upstairs to check in with daddy confirmed he was innocent as well. I confronted Drew with this logic. His only response: "I don't know, Mommy. I didn't do it."

Now I could really care less about the blinds. We have a rule and try to keep it consistent for safety reasons, but had he admitted his guilt at the first question, I probably would have simply reminded him the blinds were off-limits and left it at that.

Lying, on the other hand, is another deal altogether. So I stood him in front of me, told him I knew he was lying and that lying was not tolerated in this family, and then said that he would need to go to his room until he was ready to tell me the truth.

"Ok, Mommy, I'm sorry," was his immediate response, "I don't want to go to my room."

Thinking we were finally getting somewhere I said, "Ok, then, you need to tell the truth. Did you play with the blinds?"

"No, I didn't."

After I sent Drew to his room, I sat downstairs, blown away at the strength of his instinct for self-preservation. As soon as he told that first lie, he was committed--if he wanted to avoid admitting wrongdoing, he had to stick with his story, whether it made any sense or not. Sadly, the longer he stuck with it, the further it led him away from reconciliation with me, his loving mom.

How silly of him, I thought, to think that I wouldn't know he was lying. And to cling so long to the notion that denying his guilt would work out better for him than just admitting it.

How often, though, do we try to pull the same ridiculously futile stunt with God? We try to cover up our selfish motives, hide our secret sins, sometimes even boldly lying to His face. And, let's be totally honest here, we get ourselves in the same sin cycle Drew was in -- committed to a course of action that can only lead us away from our Heavenly Father, but unable or unwilling to come clean. Even though we're totally miserable, we somehow convince ourselves admitting the truth will be even worse.

This morning in church we read the following Scripture:

Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.
Blessed is the man whose sin the LORD does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit.
When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer.
Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity.
I said, " I will confess my transgressions to the LORD"
--and you forgave the guilt of my sin.
Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you while you may found;
surely when the mighty waters rise, they will not reach him.
You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.
(Psalm 32:1-7)

Our natural instinct when we are ashamed is to cover ourselves (think Adam and Eve in the garden). But only when we make ourselves naked and vulnerable before God can he clothe us with his righteousness. How it must break God's heart to watch us "wasting away" with guilt and shame, when all we need to do is acknowledge our sin and he will not only forgive us, but become our very hiding place.

When I went up to Drew's room yesterday and he finally confessed, told me the truth and apologized, I told him that there was nothing he could ever do that telling his dad and I the truth wouldn't be better than lying. I got tears in my eyes as I said it because I realized just how true that statement was, and what it implied as Drew grows up: there is nothing he could do that would cause us to love him any less. If he is dishonest with us, it breaks our trust and creates a very real chasm in our relationship. But if he confesses, we want nothing more than to forgive and restore the relationship.

How much more does our Heavenly Father desire to be merciful with us?