Self Pity is a Window Into Your Soul

By Rick Thomas

Pity is a feeling of sorrow that you express toward someone who has suffered loss. Self-pity is when the person you are pitying is yourself. The self-pitying person looks at himself and feels sorry for himself because he realizes he has lost something that he wants back.

Maybe the self-pitying person has done something that he regrets, or he does not like the kind of person that he has become. It reminds me–in an inverted way–of the story in Luke about the Pharisee looking down on the tax collector in the temple.

The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.” – Luke 18:11

In this case, the Pharisee and the publican are the same persons; the entitled person is looking down on the pitiful person. And he disdains himself.

Let’s say that you’re both the Pharisee and the publican in the temple. You, the Pharisee, are looking down on you, the publican. And you wish you were not that awful person, the publican. You dislike that version of yourself.

If you had a more biblical view of yourself, you’d accept the fact that you not only make mistakes, but you’re capable of doing things far worse than anything you’ve done to this point.

The problem in view here is an over-inflated opinion, and when the person behaves poorly, doesn’t get what he wants, or doesn’t like his circumstances, he feels sorry for himself in a self-absorbed way.

Worse Than You Think

A right understanding of yourself, apart from the grace of God, assumes the role of the publican (Romans 3:10-12). Rather than wallowing in pity, you plead with God to have mercy on your pitiful self. It is that kind of attitude that the Lord lavishes with empowering grace (James 4:6).

We don’t like thinking about the awfulness of ourselves because we resist the biblical declaration that we’re rotten to the core (Isaiah 64:6). Only a person with a high view of himself would get hung up on his fallenness. If you want to change, you must go further down until you accept the role of the publican in the temple.

Sober Self-Assessment

It is not wrong to assess yourself. A sober self-assessment is needful if you want to walk in step with the Spirit of God. The danger of self-assessment is the temptation to think wrongly about yourself. You can over-estimate yourself, or you can land in the ditch of self-pity.

The wise man understands his tendencies to misjudge himself, so he surrounds himself with gospel-centered friends who care enough to bring the loving and biblical adjustments that he needs to hear (Proverbs 27:6).

I Have Been Robbed

The self-pitying man feels robbed. His response is self-pity because there is something he wants. There is a feeling of being out of control. He will tell you it is because of his loss that he is not happy, content, or at peace.

The implication is that if he can get what he wants, he will be happy again. It goes like this: “I will be satisfied if I can get (fill in the blank).” If anything other than God goes in his (blank), it is idolatry.

Paul teaches that no matter what your circumstances are, it’s imperative that you learn the secret of contentment. Your conditions cannot determine your deep and abiding peace in God. If they do, you have misplaced affections.

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. – Philippians 4:11-13

Notice Paul’s spectrum of circumstance:

The Worst of TimesThe Best of TimesI can be brought lowI can aboundI am okay when I’m hungryI am okay in times of plentyI am content when I am in needI am content in times of abundance

I Am Entitled

Whenever the self-pitying man goes into “self-pity mode,” where he does not experience joy and contentment, he is communicating a sense of entitlement. “I deserve something; I am angry and will not be satisfied until I get the thing I crave.”

It is not the trial that is robbing him of his joy. Idolatry has chased his happiness away. He cannot be joy-filled and angry at the same time. Self-pity is a form of anger. The raw truth that his soul is expressing is, “I am mad because I am not getting what I deserve.”

This man does not understand the implication of the gospel, which says, “You deserve to go to hell, and it is only because of God’s mercy that there is a rescue of your soul!” The gospel-centered man’s mantra is,

You are doing better than you deserve. Anything better than hell is a perk, and though you are not getting some of the things you would like to have, like Paul, you have learned the secret to contentment. You find it in the gospel.

In Line With the Gospel

If you want to know if your life is authentically lining up with the gospel, assess yourself during troubled times, when things are not perfect. Your attitude about your troubles provides an accurate window into your soul, primarily as to how the gospel is governing your soul.

The gospel provides you everything you need in Christ. It may not give you everything you want, but it does offer you everything that you need.

Though you may grieve during a season of trouble, the gospel realigns your soul, fills your voids, and gives gratitude for disappointment. It is only the power of the gospel that brings contentment to your life regardless of your circumstances.

Call to Action

1. Do you become angry when you do not get what you want? If so, what does your anger reveal about you/

2. Do you grow sad when you can’t have what you want? If so, what is it about the gospel that is not satisfying to you?

3. When you read Philippians 4:11-13, what goes through your mind as it pertains to you? How do you need to change?

The Two Faces of Self-Centeredness

Chrys Jones

Self-centeredness is two-faced. 

It can be the overly confident fool who walks with his chest out and wears his ego on his sleeve—sometimes literally. This sort of cringe-worthy form irritates us unless we are the beneficiaries of the talents and brilliance of the self-professed genius. We still furrow our brows when we see their antics on display, but we can’t help but be drawn in by the enticing melodies of their siren calls.

Self-centeredness wears another mask as well. The Eeyore sort of pride hides in plain sight like Waldo on a canvas full of colors and distractions. They don’t post a selfie every time they walk an old lady across the street, but they desperately want to be caught on camera and praised. We notice them, but we seem to always shift our attention back to the more boisterous people because it’s tough to notice a candle when there’s a spotlight in the room.

 CHRISTIANS AREN’T EXEMPT 

This self-centeredness dresses up in Christian garb too.  There are many times that I see these forms of pride in myself. There are times when I want to puff out my chest and let everyone know how devoted I am to the Lord. I want them to acknowledge my preaching and writing gifts. I want to be their favorite Christian rapper and producer. These moments are terrifying because they catch me off guard. Just when I thought I had my pride in check, I’m lured and enticed by my own evil desire.

On the other end of the spectrum, I sometimes find myself wrapped up in self-pity. The sting of a rejected article, a flat sermon, a poorly-performed album release, or a failed moment of parenting can leave me licking my wounds and begging everyone to notice my sackcloth and ashes. What some people consider modesty and humility is really just a facade of the kid who air-balled the free throw and faked an injury to get taken out of the game. This is pride, too.

We see both of these forms of pride in Scripture. One looks and feels nobler and is often met with pity. The other is annoying and we want to hit the mute button because we can easily spot a celebrity rant on a crowded Twitter feed. Neither is godly, and they both lead to hell apart from Christ.

THE PHARISEE WITHIN

In Luke 18:9-14 Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Notice what he says about the Pharisee:

“The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ‘I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get.’” (Lk. 18:11-12 NASB)

He is praying to himself. He’s boasting about his greatness compared to the so-called bad people of society. He’s even so bold as to look down and point out the guy on his knees next to him! Then, in his hypocrisy, he publicly proclaims his self-righteous fasting and tithing! This man is over-the-top.

The Pharisee clearly failed to see his own sinfulness in the presence of the Holy God. He wasn’t humbled by the presence of a holy God. He chose showmanship and flexed his tiny spiritual muscles instead. When we are truly in the presence of God, we may notice others’ sins, but as Isaiah spoke, “I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isa. 6:5 ESV). When we become expert plank-pullers, we won’t be so preoccupied with others’ splinters (Matt. 7:3-5).

WORLDLY GRIEF

Self-centeredness paints up in humble garb as well. We definitely ought to look into hearts and say, “ I am deeply grieved by my sin!” However, if we spend too long there, we will end up caught in a cycle of morbid introspection.

Jared Mellinger aptly describes this sort of introspection in his book Think Again:

“There is a kind of introspection that sucks the life out of our souls. It steals the joy God intends for us to receive through knowing him. It blinds us to the beautiful realities of the world God has made and numbs us to the generosity of his many good gifts. It can torture us, but it cannot purify us.”

Morbid introspection may be a sign of worldly grief—a tearful response to sin that is more concerned with the earthly and relational impacts of sins than with our offense against God. It doesn’t take us to the foot of the throne of grace where we have Jesus interceding for us (Rom. 8:34 ESV). It doesn’t produce “a repentance that leads to salvation,” an eagerness to be cleared from sin in the presence of Christ (2 Cor. 7:10-11 ESV). Unlike godly grief, worldly grief never leads to indignation toward sin, fear of God, zeal to put sin to death, or a readiness to see that sin crushed—which happened at the cross. It draws us into ourselves like a vacuum.

Rather than look to our Savior, we dwell on our sin. 

Rather than our Redeemer, we gaze at our repentance (or lack thereof). 

Rather than grace, we stare at our grief. 

There is a better way.

THE TAX COLLECTOR WITHIN

 In Jesus’s parable, the scum of the earth tax collector gives us hope. He doesn’t have accomplishments to boast about before God. He is in a profession generally known to be corrupt. Yet, he doesn’t navel-gaze at his sinfulness only to walk away without forgiveness. Instead, this tax collector confesses his wickedness and clings to Jesus. He looks away from himself and exemplifies both seeing our sin and seeking our Savior: 

“But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” (Lk. 18:13 ESV)

His humility and godly grief are on full display. He is standing far off, not feeling worthy to be close to others. He would not even lift up his eyes to heaven because he felt totally unworthy of God’s attention and presence. He beat his breast because he felt the weight of his sinfulness. If Jesus had stopped here, we would see a man who is deeply grieved by sin. We may even be left wondering if his grief was godly or worldly. Jesus doesn’t leave us hanging.

Here’s the game-changer in this parable: when the wicked tax thief sees his sin, he cries out, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (Lk. 18:13 ESV). Unfortunately, some translations don’t give us the full weight of this verse. Unlike the Pharisee, this tax collector is so concerned with only his sin that he says, “be merciful to me, the sinner” (NASB, emphasis mine). He cries out to God for mercy because he knows that God’s mercy is his only hope.

LOOK TO JESUS

Christians, in our sin we need to look to Jesus. In our grief and shock, we have to look away from ourselves and cling to the Savior. Self-centered pride will kill us, and self-centered grief will bring death. Only Christ-centered remorse will bring life. Jared Mellinger helps us again:

“Our help does not come from within, from discovering ourselves or believing in ourselves. Our help comes from the Lord Jesus Christ. We can find a lot of problems by looking inside ourselves, but we’re not going to find solutions there. Self-help is a monstrous oxymoron. We cannot help ourselves; we need help from outside.”

Where are you looking today?  Whose help are you seeking? Dear saints, look to Jesus! Seek him and keep your eyes fixed on his glorious throne!

Chrys Jones (@chrys_jones) is a husband and father of four. He is a church planter in training, and writes regularly at dwellwithchrist.com. Chrys is also a Christian Hip-Hop artist for Christcentric.

posted at: https://gcdiscipleship.com/article-feed/two-faces-of-self-centeredness

Woe is Me: The Sin of Self-Pity

By Abigail Dodds

We’ve all seen it in toddlers. The moment when the 3-year-old asks for a particular race car from his fellow toddler. The friend replies, “No, I’m playing with it,” and the rebuffed child — rather than finding another car to play with or waiting for a turn — sits down in a huff of hurt feelings and ill will.

We’ve all seen it in grade-school children. The moment when the 8-year-old suggests setting up a game of pretend “house” with baby dolls and play acting, but her friends decide to go outside and play tag instead. So, rather than join them, she mopes around indoors and later tells her mom that the other children left her out and wouldn’t play with her.

“The sin in self-pity is that we assess ourselves and our circumstances as though God is not our gracious Father.”TweetShare on Facebook

We’ve all seen it in teenagers. The moment when the 15-year-old’s homework and chores have piled up at the same time that the weather is nice and the beach is open. So, rather than buckle down and start chipping away at the workload, he bemoans his rotten homework and the unfairness of life.

We’ve all seen it in adults. The moment when a woman goes from mother to martyr — one minute she is loving and sacrificing for her family, the next minute she is hurt and bitter that all her hard work and dedication isn’t being noticed or appreciated.

This sulky and familiar tyrant is self-pity.

Sin in Self-Pity

Self-pity is when we have pity for ourselves; especially when we have a self-indulgent attitude toward our own hardships. Something bad happens to us, and we decide to lament our loss alone — since no one else apparently will.

What’s interesting about self-pity is that, while it is generally recognized as a negative trait among Christians and non-Christians, it is not a word you can find in the Bible. It isn’t found in the Epistles’ vice lists or among the seven deadly sins.

Yet the Bible has plenty to tell us about self-pity. There is a sense in which the entire story of the Bible exists to wake us up from the stupor of deadly self-pity and cause us to receive the only pity powerful enough to save us — the pity of God. Jesus manifests God’s pity for sinners: “Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, ‘I will; be clean’” (Mark 1:41). This pity finds its pinnacle at the cross of Christ.

At root, the sin in self-pity is that we assess ourselves and our circumstances as though God is not our gracious Father. When we take God out of the picture, when his pity for us in the death and resurrection of his beloved Son with the continued help of his Spirit isn’t enough, we turn to ourselves for love and pity. When we believe there are gaps in God’s love — and we use our circumstances as proof — we tend to take action to fill in those gaps with self-love or self-pity.

Needy Before God

Scripture shows us a better way. Consider David. Psalm after psalm after psalm details the truly piteous circumstances he often found himself in. Betrayed, hunted, holed up in a cave — David had good reason to go ahead and feel sorry for himself.

Yet he did something very different than that — he took his pitiful circumstances to God in prayer. “O God, hear my prayer; give ear to the words of my mouth. For strangers have risen against me; ruthless men seek my life; they do not set God before themselves” (Psalm 54:2–3). David wasn’t a stoic. He didn’t hide his dire need. He didn’t mince words or utter a false, “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“When we taste and see the goodness of God, self-pity becomes a sorry substitute.”TweetShare on Facebook

But notice what he says about the strangers who were seeking to kill him: “They do not set God before themselves” (Psalm 54:3). That is a sin indeed. It is the sin of ignoring God — of leaving him out of our equations and our day-to-day living. It was because David had set God before himself that he avoided the sin of self-pity. In the Psalms, David shows us what it means to live coram deo — which means, before the face of God.

When pressed by enemies close at hand, when his friends turned against him, when all hope seemed lost, David lived with God’s all-powerful sovereignty and all-encompassing love bearing down on each and every circumstance.

He Did Not Pity Himself

Consider David’s distant son: our Lord and Savior Jesus. If ever a man was entitled to self-pity, it was this man who, though he was without sin, was wrongfully accused. This man had healed the diseased, made bread for the hungry, and cast out demons, yet he was despised and rejected, spit upon and scorned. Though reviled, he did not revile in return. And even as he hung on the cross, he did so coram deo — before the face of God — crying out to him, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34). Even when enduring the wrath of God for sinners, Jesus never took his Father out of the equation.

The problem of self-pity is a problem of sight. Self-pitying people have not set the Lord before themselves as he really is — glorious, kind, sovereign, and just. They mainly have set themselves and their circumstances in their field of vision. Rather than crying out to God in our big and small moments of distress, self-pity would have us whimper in the misery of our own hearts.

And self-pity often spreads that misery, manipulatively demanding that other finite humans focus all their attention on our circumstances irrespective of God. The people of God are meant to bear one another’s burdens and sympathetically walk with one another through trials and difficulties. But self-pity distorts this beautiful design in favor of making our fellowship based on circumstances, not on our union with Christ.

Cure for Self-Pity

The cure for self-pity begins with understanding just how pitiful self-pity really is. It’s pitiful because it’s powerless. Our own pity for ourselves may conjure up some sympathy from sympathizers, especially those prone to feeling sorry for others. But it cannot ultimately do anything beyond feeling badly. Self-pity may succeed in winning attention and help from others, but it cannot provide the salve that heals. Only God’s pity can do that.

“Self-pitying people have not set the Lord before themselves as he really is — glorious, kind, sovereign, and just.”TweetShare on Facebook

It’s only when we turn our eyes to Christ and through him behold the incomparable love of our Father that our self-pity will shrivel and die — finally shown to be the imposter it really is in the light of God’s powerful pity, his decisive grace, and his sacrificial love.

When we taste and see the goodness of God in his Son and his Spirit, self-pity becomes a sorry substitute — worse, a mockery of the God who is love. When we turn to our own pity, our own love, for satisfaction and help, we are in essence denying the God who made us and showed us the meaning of love, for, “in this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10).

We can trust our Father’s compassion and pity. He knows our circumstances and sadnesses better than we do. There is not one circumstance of our lives that has not passed through the sieve of his sovereign love for us. By faith we declare with David, “I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken” (Psalm 16:8).

Abigail Dodds (@abigaildodds) is a wife, mother of five, and grad student at Bethlehem College & Seminary. She is author of (A)Typical Woman: Free, Whole, and Called in Christ (2019).

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/woe-is-me

Humility is Not Hating Yourself

We often think of humility as a rather dreary virtue. We know we need it, but we don’t expect it to be much fun. Kind of like going to the dentist.

C.S. Lewis argued the opposite: “to even get near [humility], even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a desert.” Tim Keller preached something similar: “There’s nothing more relaxing than humility.” As he explained, pride grumbles at everything, but humility can joyfully receive life as a gift.

So perhaps we get it backwards: we think humility is an impossible burden, but in reality it is as light as a feather. It is pride that makes life gray and drab; humility brings out the color. Why do we get this wrong? I don’t know, but part of the answer might be we simply misunderstand what humility is. Here are two ways we do so, in particular.

1. Humility Isn’t Hiding

Humility is not hiding your talents and abilities. If you can paint like Van Gogh, humility does not require you to keep your work under a veil in the basement closet. If you can pitch a 95-mile-per-hour fastball, humility will not encourage you to sit on the bench and never tell the coach.

In The Screwtape Letters, one devil advises another,

The Enemy wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. The Enemy wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favor that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbor’s talents — or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall.

If Lewis is right, then denying your talents is not humble — if anything, it is the opposite, since you are still focused on yourself, biased for or against yourself as an exception to the rest of the human race. Humility means the death of this craving, self-referential framework. It means valuing your contribution to the world alongside every other good thing in the world.

“True humility always produces joy. If we lack joy, we know we’ve got a counterfeit.”TweetShare on Facebook

So, imagine you are part of a team of doctors working to cure a disease. You make a discovery that contributes approximately 25% toward finding the cure. Another doctor then makes a different discovery that contributes the remaining 75% toward finding the cure. Humility means you are pleased with your accomplishment, and able to speak freely about it, while simultaneously and effortlessly three times more pleased with your colleague’s effort.

To be such a person is not a burden, but a joy and freedom.

2. Humility Isn’t Self-Hatred

Humility is not self-hatred, self-neglect, or self-punishment. The Bible never says, “Hate yourself; instead love your neighbor.” It says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Self-hatred is actually sinful, no less than hatred of others (just as suicide is a form of murder).

Musician Andrew Peterson has a song entitled “Be Kind to Yourself.” The notion of self-kindness can be misunderstood, to be sure. It must be distinguished from self-indulgence. But there is a way to take care of yourself, to genuinely have regard for yourself, that is healthy and makes you more useful to others. As I often say in counseling situations, true self-care is not selfish.

Many in our society struggle with a sense of shame, inferiority, and a lack of self-worth. We must sharply distinguish such feelings from the goal of humility. Whatever else humility will require of you, it will never rob you of your dignity as an image-bearer of God. Humble people do not regard their own existence as an evil. They do not regard themselves as corrupting everything they touch, or wasting the space in which they move. They can walk about freely in the world, with a bounce in their step.

Humility’s Acid Test

Okay, if that’s what humility isn’t, what is it? I love how Keller (following Lewis) speaks of humility as self-forgetfulness — it’s not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. Both hiding your talents and hating yourself are forms of self-preoccupation, whereas humility leads us into freedom from thoughts of self altogether.

Lewis helps us once again,

Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call “humble” nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.

“Pride grumbles at everything, but humility can joyfully receive life as a gift.”TweetShare on Facebook

Lewis’s word cheerful strikes me, as well as his emphasis on the enjoyment of life. This reminds me that joy is a good acid test of humility, and our entire spirituality. True humility always produces joy. If we lack joy, we know we’ve got a counterfeit. Something is misfiring.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that humility always will feeluplifting and comfortable. There will be arduous moments. But the net result will be, like exercise or a healthy diet, distinctly pleasant. So, we can think of humility like this: self-forgetfulness leading to joy.

Great Model of Humility

In the Christian gospel, we are given the ultimate picture of humility: Jesus, in his incarnation, and especially in his death and burial. “Being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8). No one ever humbled himself more than Jesus. From heaven to crucifixion is the ultimate descent. Yet even for Jesus, humility was the pathway to joy (Hebrews 12:2) and glory (Philippians 2:9–11).

If we would like to grow in humility, the place to start is here, at the cross. Christ’s humiliation is the death of all ego and swagger. There is no room for pride before the crucified Savior. And his exaltation gives us a greater glory to live for than our own. Heaven is roaring with his praise, and one day every knee will bow before him — what a waste to spend our talents on any lesser cause!

So, humility is not hiding what you can do, or hating who you are. It’s the joy of thinking about yourself less, and about Jesus more.

Gavin Ortlund (@gavinortlund) is a research fellow at the Carl F.H. Henry Center for Theological Understanding at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, Illinois. He writes regularly at Soliloquium.

Self-Pity: the Subtle Sin

Article by Jay Younts, Shepherd’s Press

Your six-year-old has become so obsessed with wanting his brother’s new toy that he has convinced himself that he is being treated with extreme cruelty because he can’t have it. By allowing self-pity to grow this child’s parents are raising someone who will become a slave to lust. This is the reason the Holy Spirit warns against grumbling and complaining.

This  scenario does not seem as shocking as the story of a teenager obsessed with pornography. However, the attitudes that fuel the teenager’s lust and obsession are the same ones that control your six-year old. This point must not be missed. You must connect the dots of self-pity in your young children with the self-pity of teenagers enslaved by sins like pornography and substance abuse.

Don’t dismiss self-pity as a passing stage. Whining in young children is an early warning sign of a life centered around selfish desires. Left unchecked whining can grow into an ugly, deadly obsession. Our culture is fixated on sensuality. Basically, a sensual person is obsessed about what gives him or her pleasure. So the craving for the toy is replaced with a craving for self-pleasure or a cure for discontent.

Self-pity is the enemy of sensitivity. Self-pity will shift your child’s focus to sensuality. Sensuality means that I care about what is best for me regardless of what is best for you. Sensuality is never satisfied and continually cries out for more and more. (Ephesians 4:17-19)

Sensitivity, however, can be satisfied because you can obediently care for other people. Sensitivity, based on Christ’s commitment, is the first essential building block in having good relationships, both with God and others. On the other hand, self-pity will lead your teenager into bouts of discouragement and a craving for self-pleasure. Pornography is just one of the ugly fruits of self-pity.

When you see your six-year-old whining about something, add ten years to his behavior and ask yourself, “what will he be whining about, craving for when he is sixteen.” Lord willing, that will send a shocking dose of reality through you mind. Take the time to enter into his world and teach him life is not about feeding his desires. Life is about having his desires met in Christ.

Live a life of sensitivity with your children. Show them the selfless love of Christ.

Posted at: https://www.shepherdpress.com/self-pity-the-subtle-sin/?fbclid=IwAR3qEZ_rCyT93n_3we6Mg5_i5Sveb1QQS-q7xfhuDn5WFGFnhYr4vxmYYxI