2 truths and a lie

One of my favorite ice breakers is Two Truths and a Lie. Mostly because I have quite a few random stories that I don't ever think to share.

For example, can you identify which factoid is the lie?

1. I met Trent Lott, then a Senator, in 2000 as a tag-along with a friend during a Law and Advocacy conference in Washington, D.C. In 2002, he made a controversial statement about Strom Thurmond's presidential candidacy.

2. I wrote an essay in high school that prompted my dad to set up a meeting with the principal. I ultimately received an apology from the principal for his dismissive behavior toward me.

3. In seventh grade, I was hit in the head with a softball at a Red Sox vs. Indians baseball game. I still remember the player who threw it into the stands; and I'm still slightly bitter about it.


It's not easy to sift through truth and lies. Sometimes I don't like the truth. Other times, I've internalized the lie as true. Or, lies can tweak the truth, like I did with the lie above.

Because it's trending, I made a list of various lies I tend to believe. I present to you...

5 ways of saying the same lie:

1. If you stop that bad habit, you'll finally be happy.
2. If you learn a new habit, you won't be sad anymore.
3. If you win that person's approval, then you'll like yourself more.
4. Happiness can be a permanent feeling if you work hard enough.
5. If you want something enough, then it will happen.

I may be able to identify the lie in a blog post, but it's not necessarily easily discovered in my thought process day to day.

I'm working toward internalizing this truth: "I am fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139: 14).

I did not create myself. I did not do anything to exist. Why do I keep telling myself that I have to do certain things to be wonderful? Why do I see my value as something that needs to be earned? Because I've believed a lie.

In fact, I actually think God has revealed to me the source. It is both exciting and scary. It means a lot of work. It means no longer accepting lies as comfort. The comfort never lasts, anyway. It means trusting God. It means seeing Him show up. It means my mourning will be turned into dancing (Psalm 30: 11).

It means I will learn to call a lie a lie. No matter how twisted and sparkly it looks.