Coming Unglued Isn’t All Bad

Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body

so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer the parts

of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness,

but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been

brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body

to him as instruments of righteousness.

(Romans 6:12 – 13)

A well-decorated home isn’t a sign of a well-built house. It may seem impressive temporarily, but in the long run, if the foundation crumbles or faulty wiring makes it catch on fire, it won’t matter how many pretty pictures are on the walls. The whole house will fall.

The same is true of what we might call a well-decorated life. I can fake a smile, but if I’m crumbling underneath, eventually I will fall.

My crumbling comes in the form of feeling short-tempered, on edge emotionally, and incapable of explaining exactly what’s wrong. My falling comes at the times when those festering feelings bubble to the surface in the form of unglued reactions.

But just as a light that fails to come on when the switch is flipped may indicate a wiring problem, coming unglued may indicate a problem with our internal wiring. Outward expressions indicate internal realities. If our outward expression is unglued, we are experiencing brokenness internally—brokenness we won’t address unless we are forced to acknowledge its existence. As painful as it might be to name these broken places, seeing ourselves — really seeing deeply and honestly — is a good thing.

When I look through the window of my unglued reactions, I may find unacknowledged pride, long-standing unforgiveness, deep-seated bitterness, simmering anger, joy-stealing jealousy, condemning shame, haunting regrets, and entangling rejection. Or I might see a crammed-too-full schedule. Or a feeling that I’m taken for granted and unappreciated.

Romans 6:12 reminds us not to let sin reign in us; therefore, we have to be aware of the sin inside. If things are ever going to get better, we have to acknowledge things under the surface that fuel our unglued reactions. We may not like what we see, but at least we’ll know what we’re dealing with. We can call it what it is and ask God to help us.

I’m reacting in angry ways, God. What do I do?

I’m feeling bitter toward them, God. What do I do?

I’m having a hard time forgiving, God. What do I do?

I’m using harsh words, God. What do I do?

I don’t take time to ask God what to do often enough. Do you find this to be true? So maybe having a clear-eyed view of my underneath will help me to go to God more — more frequently, more authentically, more humbly.

Therefore, might we agree that coming unglued isn’t all bad if it brings us to God? And brings to light what’s eating away at us, what’s chipping away at our foundation? But even more, coming unglued is glorious if the end result of that brokenness leads us to a healthier wholeness.