The Day My Good Girl Died- Overcoming Spiritual Legalism

Do you struggle with self imposed rules that crush your faith and squish your joy? Is there a sense of dread that you will never meet God’s expectations and you are not sure you are going to heaven no matter how hard you try? Do you struggle with not being perfect enough for God to love? Do you struggle with feeling like God is only tolerating you because you are so messy? Been there most of my life, until I discovered TRUTH. Overcoming spiritual legalism is brutal. Let me tell you my story.

My childhood was great with no major life traumas that I can remember. I was a middle class, semi-popular, normal Ohio farm kid that just did my thing. I excelled in public speaking and swing choir and loved being in the lime light. Believe me, I put on a really good show on and off stage.

I was going somewhere in life and I was going to be big stuff, you know? I was empowered, independent, and nothing could stop me because I was a good girl. I guess I survived the typical teenage stuff without any epic scars, or so I thought. So what’s the problem? Lurking underneath the polished, good-girl exterior was my fallen sinful heart, and I chose not to let God deal with it.

Instead, I chose to seek out what my heart so desperately longed for. Acceptance. Acceptance from others and acceptance with God based on my own feeble merit instead of His lavish grace. I was quickly becoming friends with the Pharisee in me and her cruel friendship would eventually crush me.

How did it happen? Well, I was a good teenage girl on the outside. I went to church, sang in the choir, faithfully attended youth group and had just enough of God to obtain fire insurance. My faith was shallow at best. I checked off each and every religious box that was required of me. That meant as long as I didn’t get caught or do anything permanently stupid, God and I were just fine and dandy. My Saturday nights never matched my Sunday mornings and frankly, I didn’t really care.

In the midst of teen growing pains, my belief system morphed into thinking that God’s love for me was based on my stellar religious behavior rather than Jesus. I justified my wild side because my good side was going to outweigh my bad, right? I was a really, really good girl, right? Sin was what the really bad kids did, not me. I was just a little sinner but God was obligated to let this good girl get off the hook, right? Hypocrisy was my middle name, and as you can imagine that made for some poor choices.

Well, that was me with my big 80’s permed hair and making big permanent heart scars. My confusing and toxic friendship with the Pharisee in me became my identity. I loved and hated her all at the same time. She made me arrogant. She made me feel perfect and flawless and unfortunately felt good. My good girl kept all the inner criticism at arms length and kept my head above the waves of disappointment. She made me insanely insecure, self absorbed, and fake. That was her goal and she earned a trophy.

But God. The seeds of the Holy Spirit began pricking my conscience. I knew I was saved but something was wrong. I longed to drop the mask and be authentic, but the fear of losing friends and my social status kept parts of me hiding. I chased after Jesus and began reading my Bible but only when it was convenient. Even then, Jesus met this good girl and was doing a work… which should be a hooray kind of moment, right?

It was, except my heart still ached for acceptance based on something else other than free grace, and my evil, good little girl didn’t want me to leave her side. I was performance driven and I felt like I had to make up for all the wrongs I had done. I needed to manage my good little girl and she gave herself the official title of Pharisee. In my quest to prove that I was worthy of God’s love, I worked even harder trying to be a good Christian girl. A better girl. A girl that finally got this religious thing right this time.

Looking back, I was truly learning to love Jesus with all my heart, but I didn’t understand the gospel at all. I wanted to end my friendship with the Pharisee in me, but instead I renegotiated terms and I learned how to juggle duplicity. That decision would lead me to the end of myself.

Fast forward to marriage, kids and whitewashing the outside of my cup. I loved God so much and I wanted to show Him how dedicated I was to Him, so the fleshy Pharisee in me became unmanageable. She fed off of my need for acceptance. She became stronger, more hideous and messed with my heart and mind.

She swayed me into thinking that I needed to be a perfect Proverbs 31 kind of gal to fit in the Christian circles. “Be more humble, more modest, more quiet in spirit! Be more spiritual, Sheryl! Don’t do this, don’t do that. Look right-act right-be right!!” I needed perfect homeschooled kids, a perfect marriage, a perfect garden, and (for crying out loud) perfect homemade bread because I wanted to be the perfect homemaker.

It translated into ultra conservative lifestyle choices with my clothing, hairstyle, lack of make up and no jewelry. I needed acceptance from God and from everyone around me. I needed to fit in God’s kingdom and protect the fake one that I was building. I would eventually learn that comes with a very high price tag.

God was going to be so proud of this good little Christian girl, right? Wrong. My thirsty soul was shriveling and my heart was beyond miserable, but my inner Pharisee was shining in all of her own glory. I was trapped in the clutches of her cunning schemes and she was crushing every relationship I was in. My life had no grace for others and no grace for myself. I became a frustrated, defensive, self righteous slave to the idol of my own making.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved Jesus and read my Bible everyday, but I still didn’t understand the Gospel. I wanted to bring my own goodness to the table and it wasn’t working.

I knew that my good girl Pharisee needed to be dealt a death blow, but yet I did not know where to turn because I was already a Christian. What do you do with that dilemma?

Repent. That’s what. I was totally cried out, prayed out, stressed out, and worn out from my spiritual masquerade party. God finally pulled back the legalistic curtains and the true Gospel of Jesus Christ was waiting there for me to behold right in the very first chapter of Ephesians. Repentance is such a sweet release. I didn’t need to be perfect because Jesus was my perfect substitute! I didn’t need to control others, because He is in control! He chooses to call me Daughter of the Most High King and He calls me worthy!

I am completely forgiven, not because I am good, but because He is! Jesus is enough and I am not. I am in Christ and He has made me whole! Praise God I not only heard the Gospel, but I truly understood the Gospel in my heart of hearts. I gladly let my good girl die so the real me could live in grace. Ah, sweet grace.

In His infinite, rescuing mercy and love, God came after the Pharisee in me with a vengeance because I was not able to defend myself from her attacks. This good girl was a dirty fighter and she was deeply embedded. She came out kicking and screaming as My Savior threw her into the abyss where she belonged. It was a brutal and bloody spiritual battle.

Harboring that kind of pride against a Holy God had significant consequences. Family tragedies, multiple medical traumas, broken relationships and rivers of tears were the very tools my Great Physician used to set me free. God knocked me off of my spiritual perch and began rebuilding me from the ground up. Humbling hurts— a lot.

It took several agonizing years, but God peeled away the layers of self worship, carnal religious trappings, and fleshly pride that had wreaked havoc all of my life. He showed me my salvation is secure IN CHRIST ALONE at the foot of His cross!

When I saw Jesus for who He was and all that He had done for me, I saw the depth of my depravity and the silliness of thinking that I could earn such a priceless and eternal gift by my false humility. I could breathe! I could love freely because I was freely loved with no conditions!

I became holy because He was Holy for me. I could stumble and fall into my Father’s arms with no regrets because I found TRUTH for the first time. I found full acceptance and soul rest. I found Jesus, and He is all I need.