I was warned - many years ago - in another context I suppose. A camp counselor at a Bible camp told me, when I told her of a recent decision to give God "all my life" - said, "That's wonderful! just remember though - the problem with a 'living sacrifice' is that it's always crawling off the altar!"
Or was it another context...? I wonder.
I do know that denial was a way of life for me then, and for most of my life after that. It's only in early 2009 that God brought me to the place where I was desperate enough to be honest with myself.
Looking back, I can be thankful that God brought me the route that He did; there was a time when I couldn't see that (all I could see was my own misery.) What I can understand now is that my self-delusion had to be crushed to the point where I admitted that my life was totally unmanageable. My efforts to construct a perfect world for myself and my loved ones was falling around me like a house of cards and I was in panic mode. I was drowning in my own self-made watery grave. Like a drowning person who stops struggling and can then be rescued - I was ready to accept help.
Admitting that I needed help from someone outside the church was a big deal for me. I was bound up by spiritual pride, religious traditions that masqueraded as doctrines when in fact, they were personal preferences based on my level of comfort with certain ideas I had been conditioned to believe were wrong.
I had so many false beliefs about what real life was like. They all stemmed from messages I received when I was a child about my own worth, and I formed values based on those beliefs. I carried them with me into my marriage and eventually into my role as a mother.
Eventually, through the process of my inner healing and letting go of the tools I'd been using to dig myself into a hole, I finally asked God to reach into my mess and pull me out.
It was not easy; He had to pull me out through some obstacles I had set up - and it's by no means perfect today. But He has given me the grace and the experience to be able to tell when I am digging again - and enough of a taste of freedom to willingly offer Him the shovel.