Ever been treated badly? Abandoned? Insulted? Ignored? Forgotten? Replaced? Taken for granted? Or just feel like you never get a break and nothing goes your way?
Join the club!
I have felt the sting (and sometimes the gut-punch) of all these abuses and misfortunes in my lifetime. I have not always responded in the healthiest way: anger, accusation, and resentment have been common. But my favorite go-to for a good part of my life has been the cuddly-soft emotional blanket of self-pity.
The word “pity” comes from a Latin word that means “dutiful respect” or “devotion.” Its roots are closely related to the English word, “piety.” To show pity to others fundamentally refers to “dutifully showing respect” for the pain or suffering of those around us. But when this pity turns inward, we “dutifully” give ALL our attention and energy to the care and comfort of OUR OWN wounds and bruised feelings. The more we indulge in this type of “self-care,” the more it becomes an engrained pattern. We have less time and energy to direct compassion toward others as well as to respond to what God desires to show us.
Let’s be honest: It’s ugly!
Self-pity is one of those habits that we notice in others before we find it in ourselves. Something goes wrong in a colleague or family member’s life, we hear how they verbalize their difficulties as the fault of circumstances and the bad intentions of others. Rarely do they take responsibility. They quickly take up the perspective that such things ought never happen to them (life and God are so unfair). They typically assume they are experiencing worse treatment than anyone else. This leads to lifting their “suffering” above the difficulties of those around them, minimizing, or blinding themselves to the pain of others. Without intervention, these patterns and conclusions become woven into a person’s identity.
Don’t you hate it when people have such self-absorbed attitudes?
I do not remember when it finally dawned on me that I was one of those people. It came as a shock. I rationalized and justified my self-absorbed response to the injustices I perceived committed against me. But in the end, I could not get away from the truth that I was on a slippery slope of self-indulgence and self-delusion. It was going to strangle my ability to compassionately respond to others, and even more importantly, cut off my sensitivity to God’s voice and promptings. I finally asked God for help.
God’s attitude toward it?
Beware when you make such a request of the Almighty. He does not coddle our egocentric ways. This is what I heard Him say:
“Have no pity on your self-pity.”
I reluctantly chewed on this for a while. It felt harsh (self-pity is easily hurt and offended). But in the end, I concluded I had to cut out this cancer growing in my heart, even though it always assured me it had my best interest in mind.
The next time I became aware I was starting to feel sorry for myself, I told it to shut up! I said it aloud. I don’t remember if I had to explain myself to anyone within earshot. But that was the beginning of my standing up to this pathetic monster, though the battle was not over.
Eventually, I concluded that self-pity is an inverted form of pride. It is a master of self-persuasion. When I wrap my pain and sorrow with its syrupy-sweet comfort, I am blinded. I submissively believe the spin it puts on my circumstances, even if what it says is the opposite of what the wisest and most Spirit-led voices are telling me. The perspective self-pity gives is the “truth” I then live out and the grid through which I interpret all the issues of my life — and woe to the person who tries to convince me otherwise.
For I KNOW that I am being treated the worst; I KNOW that no one really cares about me; I KNOW that good things are given to others but withheld from me!
How? Because self-pity tells me so (with its sad and woeful tones), and everything it says feels true!
I am thus wide open to envy, blame, anger, and all those self-fulfilling prophecies. In a twisted sort of way, it feels good. It massages my ego as a misunderstood martyr and makes me look humble (sort of). But the long-term fruit is always bitter, leaving me all by myself.
I can fight it
So, even though I learned to tell self pity to “shut up,” I had to develop new patterns to maintain a defiant attitude toward this tyrant. Here are a few ways I recommend counteracting its poison:
Though I have yet to find the term ‘self-pity’ used anywhere in the Bible, the scriptures condemn the spirit that animates it. Feeling sorry for myself grows out of pride and self-centeredness.
“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Philippians 2:3-4 ESV
“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-19 ESV
Do not let IT win!
Drown its voice with generosity, thanksgiving, and the word of God!
Have no pity on self-pity!
Response:
(Edited and reposted from April 3, 2023 “Choosing to Hate Self-Pity”)