The Spillover

Lindsey Carlson:

Online, Jill is a joyful and encouraging believer. She advocates for the oppressed and raises money for the poor. Every Saturday she tweets about her service at the local homeless shelter. She posts Bible verses several times a day. Based on her social media interactions, her friends seem to love and enjoy her.

Offline, she’s a different Jill.

Offline Jill seems standoffish and unengaged with her church community. Her online activism feels more like judgmentalism and, while happy to volunteer at a shelter, she can’t be bothered to serve her local church. Hurt by her apparent disinterest, Jill’s peers feel ignored and pushed away. She seems more content to live online than face-to-face.

How can Jill’s online life look so different from her real life? I can’t judge her; I’ve been her and seen the fallout.

I Trick You

What I allow you to see online shapes your perception of me.

I put forth the cleanest version of myself not to intentionally fool you, but because I want to glorify God in all I say and do (and for more selfish reasons). I avoid broadcasting my negativity to keep you from stumbling (again, and for more selfish reasons). I carefully steward my statuses, affirm others, and avoid grumbling and complaining. I mind my moral and social p’s and q’s.

It’s an admittedly misleading version of myself. I’m not posting, “Wow. I’m totally out of control. #ShamingMySon,” or “I haven’t done laundry in a month. #RatherBeTweeting.” It’s not that I’m unaware of my sin; I’ve just methodically eliminated the evidence. You assume I sin sometimes, but not because I’ve confessed.

In short, basing your impression of me on my social media profile would result in an embarrassingly inaccurate rendering of reality.

I Trick Me

What I present online unintentionally shapes my self-awareness, too.

Looking at the neatest, tidiest version of myself is sneakily alluring. I like the feeling of appearing perfect. The onlooking masses (or handful of friends) needn’t know I sin, well, regularly.

To be honest, my own sin surprises me. I’m shocked when pride surfaces, self-control slips, or I fall prey to the same idolatrous patterns I’ve been battling for years. My gut reaction isn’t Woe is me, I am a woman of unclean lips, but embarrassment about the evidence of indwelling sin I thought I could hide.

If Real Me is radically different than Online Me, which me is real, and which is the impostor? If I’m failing to demonstrate the same fruit of the Spirit in “real life” as I do online, it’s probably plastic fruit—and I need to be aware of the discrepancy.

Getting Comfortable

It’s fun to fill your life with Facebook friends, Twitter followers, and blog readers who seem to care every time you nail a Pinterest project or your kid does something cool. Who wouldn’t love an audience to “like” all their pictures and “ooh and aah” over their craftiness?

But brothers and sisters, we must recognize this self-obsession and pride for what it is.

When I’m being encouraged primarily by online relationships, and large portions of my time are spent reading my own good press, it can get pretty comfortable on the sofa of social media. I like living in an online world where there’s no need for my community to truly bear with me. I’d rather bask in the love of my digital perfection than stumble and fall before real people who will call me out and hold me accountable.

If I’m not careful, hanging out where no one knows my dirt can easily lull me away from reality into a life of insincerity and isolation.

Being Present 

Avoiding real-life connections—the ones you see every Sunday morning—to unpack your heart in the digital community doesn’t only set you up for a delusional view of self, disappointment with your physical community, and social isolation; it also breeds spiritual stagnancy.

No matter how great your internet friends are, they aren’t standing beside you, sensing your suffocating self-absorption. They don’t see you at your worst or notice when you’re avoiding fellowship or suffering from spiritual depression. They won’t pick up on your dissatisfaction with your spouse, your constant bitterness or negativity, or your refusal to forgive the friend who hurt you. But real-life friends, the ones who can drive to your doorstep when you call, will.

I need friends who will get in my grill, iron sharpening iron, and help me to conquer sin head-on. I may turn a blind eye to my own social media slickness, but true friends won’t. I need to be confronted by my sinfulness in real life, where there’s no filter and no delete button.

Our Real and Present Need

My greatest need isn’t a public relations manager; it’s a Redeemer. And real-life, everyday friends—the ones aware of both my sin and the gospel’s power—will regularly remind me of this need.

Long-distance and digital friendships, no matter how wonderful they are, cannot gain full access into our souls. Seeing a friend’s compassionate eyes, holding her hand, and kneeling together in prayer are evidences of God’s tangible nearness in the war against sin.

Don’t settle for keeping your life primarily or exclusively online. Social media is a poor substitute for physical presence. Strive, fight for, and pour into those friends with whose voices, body language, and quirky personalities you’re well familiar. These are the hearts that know your heart—and are praying and engaging for your sanctification.

JD Greear:

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” (Ephesians 4:29)

In Ephesians 4:29, Paul mentions two kinds of speech: that which builds up and that which pulls down. This verse and the surrounding passage show us ten ways that we can handle conflict well—10 ways to fight like a Christian.

1. Examine your heart.

This is a huge first step in any conflict. Even if you’ve been wronged, what does your emotional response say about your heart? Is it possible that malice, wrath, or bitterness have snuck in? These things are like alarm systems for your heart, pointing to idolatry, which is often a much bigger issue than whatever your spouse (or brother or friend or boss) has done to you.

2.     Overlook whatever you can.

Part of speaking to others with grace is discerning what needs confronting and what should be overlooked. That’s a lot of what Paul means by that little phrase, “as fits the occasion.” On certain occasions (not all!), confronting little infractions only serves to heighten tensions. There are times you need to speak up and confront; and there are times to just let it go. There’s a real art to knowing the difference.

3.     Be practical in how you fight.

Again, think about what “fits the occasion.” My wife and I have learned the hard way that there are certain times, places, and moods that are just bad for arguments. So we never fight, for instance, if we’re both exhausted. We table the argument and come back to it within 24 hours, after we’ve had time to rest. Now, there’s always a temptation to just table a critical discussion endlessly, so you need to be sure to keep your word. If you say, “Let’s talk about this in the morning,” then put it on your calendar and actually bring it back up.

4.     Be quick to listen and slow to speak.

As our Pastor of Counseling Brad Hambrick says, the vast majority of communication problems are not expression problems, but listeningproblems. You’re plenty skilled at making your point known; but the “communication breakdown” is the result of your stopped up ear. Listening well is one way of applying the biblical truth of considering others’ interests more important than your own (cf. Phil 2:3–4)

5.     Seek their sanctification, not your vindication.

Once you let go of the idea that you have to win every argument and vindicate yourself, you can finally focus on what helps the other person and the relationship. That means backing off, even when you think you are in the right.

6.  Believe in God’s overriding purposes in your relationships.

Knowing that God has a purpose for your relationships introduces an element of hope, even to the most broken of those relationships. This will not automatically make a difficult relationship easier, but it does add perspective: God knew you would be in that relationship, and he intends to do something beautiful with your conflict.

7. Speak grace-saturated words.

When grace saturates your speech, it changes both the content and the tone of what you say. Instead of assuming the positives and noticing the negatives, you begin to assume the negatives and intentionally point out the positives. You avoid being sarcastic and condescending, because that kind of talk—even if it’s technically “true”—only serves to ostracize and tear down.

8. Don’t give up until there is no longer a chance of reconciliation.

This is specifically applicable to married relationships, though the principle is broader than that. I see so many couples going through the pain of divorce, and even though I believe there are legitimate reasons for divorce, I wish that more people would just give the power of grace a chance before giving up on that relationship.

9. Truly forgive.

Forgiveness is a choice to put an offense away from our minds, but it’s not conditional on another person’s repentance. Many people think, “I’d forgive so-and-so if they would just ask for it.” But don’t confuse forgiveness with reconciliation. Reconciliation takes two people; forgiveness only takes one. For your own sake, do not wait on another person’s repentance before you forgive. The only alternative to forgiveness is bitterness.

10. Do all things out of reverence for Christ.

The only way to follow any of this is for the cross to grow large in your life, to be so overwhelmed by Christ’s sacrifice for you that it reorients how you view every offense against you. If you try to resolve conflict as an act of service to your spouse, you will always lose motivation. You have to do it for Jesus.