Honesty
The late Stephen Ambrose, famed author and historian, noted in his book, Citizen Soldier, that those soldiers who talked the loudest in predicting their bravery in battle, tended to be those that broke first when confronted with the stresses and horrors of combat. I would submit that those individuals who clamor the loudest for honesty in all of their personal relationships, tend to be those most offended when that honesty is turned their direction. I have never met anyone--family, friend, customer, business associate, Christian, or non-Christian--who truly wants unbridled, bold-faced truth delivered to their door. And that includes me.

We often arrive at these noble sentiments in a quiet moment--when we can get them--but when the nitty-gritty of everyday living is in full swing, the last thing that anyone I've ever known wants is the absolute truth, no matter how gently delivered.

I've had it delivered to me in about every form you might imagine. It has been delivered by the power of the parents' paddle. It has been thundered at me from the pulpit. It's been delivered sweetly to be by a loving wife from her pillow. I've received it laced with profanity from a teacher. It's been delivered quietly and privately from a loyal friend. The message of the cross delivers it daily. The power of a right cross pounded the message home when I was an idiot youth. In all honestly, I have never found any of those moments of truth to be remotely enjoyable. Anyone who says otherwise is either a masochist or lying.

That being said, in the world of reflection and retrospect, I hold those times in the highest regard for the simple reason that I've become a better person, and thus more Christ-like through those painful exchanges. As a I get older, and become more comfortable in my own skin--to borrow a wornout cliche--I've become more accepting of the truth as it applies to me. I did not say as I apply it, but as the Bible applies it. I also did not say that I now find it enjoyable--in the human sense. I do, however, believe it to be enriching, and so, I find myself seeking it out, as one would seek out a remedy for physical ills.

It is more, though, than a superficial remedy for an ailment, whether it be physical, psychological, or emotional. It is a spiritual encouragement--as in proof--that God loves me. In the book of Hebrews, it declares that God disciplines those whom He loves. The pain is temporary, but the benefits are eternal.

So, when someone loudly requires that I be honest with them, I think that they are being patently dishonest because such demands reveal a total lack of introspection (i.e., ego-centric), and a profound ignorance or a moment of forgetfulness of Christian behavior as defined by the Bible (this is understandable if they are not a Christian). A truthful person would ask, not demand, and would be more specific in their asking. A truly honest person does not care what it might cost them to hear and act on the truth.

I have never severed a personal relationship when the truth has been served to me. (I never knew the guy who punched me out, so he doesn't count). For the most part, I don't end relationships with those who can't accept the truth. I have, however, severed relationships with those who know the truth, yet have tried to turn it into a lie.