Out of the basement…
I have a confession to make.
Although I share excerpts from Anderson & Baumchen’s Finding Hope Again with every blog post for weeks, other interests and responsibilities have kept me from actually reading the material I share.
I had a few spare moments today and began reading where I left off, starting Chapter 6.
I am sharing this excerpt about how we can feel that we don’t deserve our place in the kingdom and how we can hide “in the basement” from all that God has for us because we don’t feel worthy.
It’s a wonderful parable.
But for me it really hits close to home. Prior to buying my new house “down by The River” in Stuyvesant NY, I spent the last three years or so sleeping in a basement. My marriage was less than harmonious since coming to faith in Christ in 2010 and it only got worse after I went into recovery in 2015. After having surgery on my foot in April of 2017, I was sent to the basement for my recovery and was never invited back.
Used to existing in a basement man cave for my spare time in my marriage since 1998, making the transition to living in the basement of my house in Craryville, seemed almost natural. I insulated the walls that bordered the drive-in garage and moved all my possessions downstairs. My pride and sense of rejection kept me there.
My faith changed my values and the materialism and addiction principles that my ex and I held in common were no longer there. I couldn’t go back, and my ex refused to go with me.
So we remained in our neutral corners, living separate lives until peaceful co-existence wasn’t enough, and it all came to an end.
I got so used to living in a basement that when I looked at my new house, I was happy to see a small spare room down there where I could do my studies…
Only after I moved in, did I come to the realization that I didn’t have to live in a basement anymore. I could actually have a bedroom in which to sleep and do my studies. I didn’t have to hide away in the bowels of the house anymore. God led me to my own place where my acceptance, significance, and security were all based on who He said I was. I was finally free to be who I was in Christ without fear. I didn’t have to be ashamed anymore. I didn’t have to worry about upsetting anyone or trying to please someone.
When you feel despised and rejected for so long, you adapt and your compromised existence and brokenness becomes the “new normal”. God can set you free, but as this parable shows we can still cower in the darkness if we don’t focus on His light and what He has done for us.
If you are still “living in the basement” of Christianity, I want you to know that the things you think about your past and what you think it means about your identity are lies. Christ has made you new, but we must believe His truth and walk in it if we ever want to ascend to the life that He has given us.
Don’t give up. There is a Way Out. Follow Him and He will show the freedom that you already have.
This excerpt comes from Anderson & Baumchen’s Finding Hope Again, chapter 6.
As always, I share this information for educational purposes and encourage all to purchase Anderson’s books for your own private study and to support his work:
“The hopelessness of
depression is based on a lie. With God there is always hope, and it is based on
truth. The difficulty is that when we are bound by the chains of hopelessness,
this seems too good to be true. Consider the following parable:
A newly
adopted child found himself in a big mansion. His new father whispered in his
ear, “This is yours, and you have a right to be here. I have made you a
joint heir with my only-begotten Son. He paid the price that set you free from
your old taskmaster, who was cruel and condemning. I purchased it for you
because I love you.”
The young boy couldn’t help but question this incredible gift.
This seems too good to be true. What did I do to deserve this? he wondered. I
have been a slave all my life and I have done nothing to earn such a privilege!
He was deeply grateful, however, and began to explore all the
rooms in the mansion. He tried out some of the tools and appliances. Many other
adopted people also lived in the mansion, and the boy began to form new
relationships with his adopted brothers and sisters.
He especially enjoyed the buffet from which he freely ate. Then it
happened! While turning away from the buffet table, he knocked over a stack of
glasses and a valuable pitcher crashed to the floor and broke. Suddenly he
began to think, You clumsy, stupid kid! You will never get away with this. What
right do you have to be here? You better hide before someone finds out, because
they will surely throw you out!
At first he was caught up with the wonder of living in the mansion
with a whole new family and a loving father, but now he was confused. Old tapes
laid down in early childhood began to play again in his mind. He was filled
with guilt and shame. The self-condemning thoughts continued. Who do you think
you are, some kind of a privileged character? You don’t belong here anymore,
you belong in the basement! My old taskmaster was right about me—I don’t belong
here. So, his mind filled with such thoughts, the boy descended into the
basement.
The cellar was dreary, dark and despairing. The only light came
from the open door at the top of the long stairs from which he came. He heard
his father calling for him, but he was too ashamed to answer.
The boy was surprised to find others in the basement. Upstairs
everybody talked to each other and joined in with daily projects that were fun
and meaningful. In the basement, however, nobody talked to each other. They
were too ashamed. Although no one liked it there, most felt that the basement
was where they really belonged, anyway. They didn’t see how they could ever
walk in the light again. If they did, others would see their imperfections.
Old friends would occasionally come to the door and encourage them
to come back upstairs where a place was prepared for them. Some
“friends” were worse than others and would scold those in the
basement, which only made it worse.
Not everyone stayed in the basement for the same reason. Some,
like the boy, thought, I deserve to be
here. I was given a chance, but I blew it. Others didn’t think they could
climb the stairs. Even if they mustered up the strength to try, the stairs
would probably break under their weight. They always had a reason why they
couldn’t return to their father upstairs.
Some would muster the courage to go up for a short time, but they
didn’t stay long enough to resolve their conflicts and learn the truth that
would enable them to stay. So they returned to the basement.
Still others were afraid that they would not be accepted. Their
old taskmaster wouldn’t accept them, so how could they expect this adoptive
parent to welcome them back after what they had done?
At first, our newly adopted child groped around in the darkness,
trying to find a way to survive. The longer he stayed in the basement, the more
the memory of what it was like to live upstairs began to fade, along with his
hope of ever returning. Those old tapes from early childhood questioned the
love of this new father, and he began to question whether he was ever adopted
in the first place.
The noise of people having fun upstairs irritated him. He
remembered the light upstairs being warm and inviting, but now, whenever the
basement door opened the light seemed penetrating and revealing. He recalled
hearing his adopted father saying that most people loved the darkness rather
than the light, for their deeds were evil.
The boy made a few half-hearted attempts to return to the light,
but eventually he found a dark corner and lay down in it. To survive, he ate
grubs and moss off the damp walls.
Then one day a shaft of light penetrated his mind, and reason
returned. He began to think, Why not
throw myself on the mercy of this person who calls himself my father? What do I
have to lose? Even if he makes me eat the crumbs that fall from the table, it
would be better than this. So he decided to take the risk of climbing those
stairs and facing his father with the truth of what he had done.
“Father,” he said, “I knocked over some glasses and
broke a pitcher.” Without saying a word, his father took him by the hand
and led him into the dining room. To the boy’s utter amazement, his father had
prepared a banquet for him!
“Welcome home, Son,” his father said. “There is no
condemnation for those who are in my family!”
Oh, the deep, deep
love of Jesus, and the matchless grace of God! The door is always open for
those who are willing to throw themselves upon His mercy. “In love He
predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according
to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace,
which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved” (Ephes. 1:4-6). If people
could accept our heavenly Father’s grace and love, they would never confine
themselves in the basement of depression or the grip of hopelessness.
Our heavenly Father
doesn’t want us to live self-condemned in the basement. He wants us to know
that we are seated with Christ in heavenly places as joint heirs with Jesus.
“Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with
Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in
his glory” (Romans 8:17, NIV).
Accepting God’s Grace[1]
[1]
Anderson, N., & Baumchen, H. (2000). Finding Hope Again:
Overcoming Depression (pp. 159–162). Gospel Light.
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