One of the best lines I've ever read.

Tucked away in a small book is a line that hit me hard. I wonder if it will do the same to you.

The book I just finished reading is only 123 pages. Small, in other words. But it has made a big difference in my life already.

I’m reading a lot lately. In fact, over the last year my reading has gone up. Way up. And it’s gone up even more over the last few months as I’ve been researching for my next book. That last part — research — is why I picked up a little book called “How Does Sanctification Work?” by David Powlison. And I am so glad I did.

The story I’m getting ready to tell is about my own sanctification. My messy sanctification, in fact. So when Powlison’s book popped up in a search and I saw the reviews, I was all over it.

It didn’t disappoint.

Tucked away near the end of this book is a line that wrecked me. So simple. So short. Yet so profound. I want to share it with you and see if you have the same reaction.

First, here’s the full paragraph, with the actual line bolded. For some context, Powlison is talking about some of the struggles that drew him to faith while a student at Harvard in the 70s:

And then there were the normal disillusionments in the years during and after college. Neither academics, nor athletics, nor career could bear the weight of identity and meaning. Close relationships failed. A foray into drug use almost unhinged me. Awareness of my own egocentrism was slowly dawning. We’re always the last to know the person in the mirror.

My wife and I were sitting outside reading last weekend when I first saw those words: “We’re always the last to know the person in the mirror.” I don’t remember exactly what I did, but the weight of that line traveled from my brain to my mouth in some way.

“What?” she asked.

“Listen to this line,” I said before reading it out loud.

“Ooooh, that’s good,” she concurred. That’s about the minimum it is. “Great,” “deep,” and “profound” all come to mind as well.

See, as I’ve walked my own messy sanctification journey over the last year, one of the most important aspects of healing, growing, and changing has been self-awareness. Seeing, knowing, and understanding our shortcomings is what transports us is the vehicle we use to travel the path of improvement. But the problem is that we have to see who we are first — who we truly are. Unfortunately, the problem with blind spots are that they are blind spots, meaning we can’t see what we can’t see. If we could see what was going on, they wouldn’t be blind spots after all. And friend, we all have blind spots.

I worked with a good friend over the last year to help rescue his marriage, and that required some tough conversations. Many times when I would bring up something really difficult that I was noticing in him, he would disagree. Of course he would disagree! If he could see the problem, he wouldn’t be in the position where his marriage was on the rocks in the first place.

We are the same way.

Maybe it’s not our marriage, but it’s something else. We have blind spots. We can look directly in the mirror and be the last person to know the person staring back at us.

That was true for me. I thought I was hiding my struggle. I thought it wasn’t as bad as it was. I thought I had it under control. Meanwhile, my wife could see exactly what was going on and where I was headed.

Friend, I don’t have a magic bullet for self-awareness — at least one that will work instantly. But I do have a recommendation that I know will work if you’re willing to put in the time. It’s abiding.

See, my own self-awareness developed after I began to truly abide in Christ. Every single day. It didn’t happen overnight. It wasn’t instantaneous. But as I drew closer to Jesus — to the light — my dark spots were illuminated. The image in the mirror became clearer. I became aware of who I was and who I had become and was becoming.

That was a gift. It was difficult, but it was a gift. My prayer for you, then, is that you become aware. That you see clearly who you are. That the light illuminates the darkness.

In other words, I pray for the gift of self-awareness.

(Pic: My copy of the book “How Sanctification Works” by David Powlison.)