I love the passion and the "real"ness in people. Real? What does that mean? I love the real, raw, flawed part of people. That sounds crazy. But to get there and to see that part of them means that they've let you in. It means they are open, they're honest, and they're vulnerable. It means they have decided to lower the mask to at least one person.
Mask? Yep. That facade we all hide behind. Thinking we're safe from questions as long as we keep up the image of having it all together. When we begin to let the mask slide, we're convinced that terrifying things will happen. Our hearts start racing at the thought of being discovered... that perhaps we don't know what we're doing. That perhaps we are hurting. That perhaps we do mess up. That people will see who we really are... the raw, exposed people behind the perfect, pretty masks.
It's that rush of adrenaline... feeling your heart throb in your neck... just like when we were little kids hiding in the closet during a particularly intense game of Hide and Seek. The footsteps near the closet door... the door opens, light floods in. We squint in the sudden brightness... hoping that some miracle will keep us from being found. Searching eyes comb over the contents of the closet where we're hiding. We hold our breaths... hoping not to be found. The moment it seems it's all over, the door closes and the Seeker leaves. All is quiet, dark, "safe" once more. But as we hear the footsteps drift from the door, we feel a strange emptiness... and besides. It's cramped in the closet. We were kind of hoping to be found.We suddenly feel a strange urge to cry out. To announce to the world that we're here... that we've been here all along.... that the Seeker would come back and look closer... we were so close to being found.
Isn't that how so many of us feel? We feel trapped in the fakeness of pretending to be perfect. When in fact we sit here comparing ourselves to others. We think someone else is prettier, stronger, faster, smarter, more capable, more confident, more godly. We are convinced we're at the bottom. That our struggle is our own. That we are the only one that struggles with things.
Ah, and that is the lie. When we are cornered and alone we are forced into believing that we are the only one who doesn't have it together. That we're the only one that fails time after time. That falls into the same terrible, destructive habits.
Finally we feel the need to tell someone. The heart throbs. The adrenaline rushes. Our secret is out. And the listener.... accepts us anyway. The listener.... loves us anyway. The listener.... has been there too. What shock. What joy. What freedom.
The freedom from finally lowering the mask and being real... being raw... is overwhelmingly beautiful.
How can a listener run from such rawness? Such honesty? Such a moment of freedom?
Yes, lowering the mask is humiliating. But it creates real, passionate, beautiful people that understand one another.
Basking in the freedom of being understood.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Basking
I had a particularly obnoxious morning. I am a morning person. I adore mornings... walking to class in the crisp air, the purity and hope of a new day... a fresh start. But if my mornings go awry, I get grumpy. And if it's a grumpy Monday... forget it.
After doing my running around for the day, I finally settled down to speed through some assignments before dinner... when a friend really challenged me. I shared a little bit about my day and complained. (yes. I'm not always the most upbeat person in the world)... He listened quietly, then told me to bask in the presence of the Lord. That's a weird concept. It's just not something we're taught to do. Not something that comes naturally. I'm a stinkin worrying, stressed mess. I let the stress of every day transfer to me.
But do you get what it means to bask? Basking is "to lie or relax in a pleasant, warm atmosphere." Summer is not so far behind us to make it difficult to recall basking in the sun. Perhaps on the beach with a good book... no stress. Just the cool lapping of the waves, the grainy sand, an occasional gull. A child shrieking with joy. The sun tickling every inch of exposed skin... creating a gentle shiver of delight.... to just simply relax.
As I pondered this, I pondered the beauty of basking. Of truly being still. Of stopping the flood of assignments, meetings, classes, responsibilities, and expectations from drowning out the simple beauty of cherishing the presence of God.
I have spent the last two days reading Emerson's reflections on nature. Coupled with powerful images from scripture, I somehow feel ushered into the presence of God through nature. The heavens declare His glory, and I am at peace. And I sit in awe of my Creator. And bask. I have a choice. Today I will choose to bask.
After doing my running around for the day, I finally settled down to speed through some assignments before dinner... when a friend really challenged me. I shared a little bit about my day and complained. (yes. I'm not always the most upbeat person in the world)... He listened quietly, then told me to bask in the presence of the Lord. That's a weird concept. It's just not something we're taught to do. Not something that comes naturally. I'm a stinkin worrying, stressed mess. I let the stress of every day transfer to me.
But do you get what it means to bask? Basking is "to lie or relax in a pleasant, warm atmosphere." Summer is not so far behind us to make it difficult to recall basking in the sun. Perhaps on the beach with a good book... no stress. Just the cool lapping of the waves, the grainy sand, an occasional gull. A child shrieking with joy. The sun tickling every inch of exposed skin... creating a gentle shiver of delight.... to just simply relax.
As I pondered this, I pondered the beauty of basking. Of truly being still. Of stopping the flood of assignments, meetings, classes, responsibilities, and expectations from drowning out the simple beauty of cherishing the presence of God.
I have spent the last two days reading Emerson's reflections on nature. Coupled with powerful images from scripture, I somehow feel ushered into the presence of God through nature. The heavens declare His glory, and I am at peace. And I sit in awe of my Creator. And bask. I have a choice. Today I will choose to bask.
Friday, September 16, 2011
It's the Little Things
This week has simply been insane. I feel like I'm a hamster running on a wheel, and every time I think I can slow down, pause, stop for a minute, I'll get hit from behind by the unforgiving wheel. Assignments pile up. Expectations pile up. People ask me to do things, and I fail at saying no. Dear friends who I haven't seen in so long are asking to spend time.... and it seems utterly ridiculous that I should say I don't have time. But I honestly don't. The balance between responsibilities and fun is nearly nonexistent. And I'm in over my head.
But it's times like these that I need the biggest perspective change. I need to quit feeling sorry for myself. I need to quit moping around about how I don't have time. It's times like these that the simplest, purest things minister to me, bring me alive, bring me joy. So often I get caught up in complaining that I fail to see the beauty of life, the beauty of the little things.
It's the toothless smiles of kindergarteners
It's the reassuring hug of a friend
It's the misplacement of articles (and tutoring ESL students)
It's the excitement of reading a poem again, and finally understanding
It's the laughter of a skype call with a friend overseas
It's the sweat pouring off my forehead as I run
It's the honking of geese over the lake
It's the taste of a chocolate chip cookie made with love
It's the sound of my family's voice
It's the wisdom of a friend
It's the victory that comes through answered prayer
It's the community found in others
It's the heat of a fire, the cold behind me
It's the sparks flying up and being swallowed in the expanse of blue
It's the voices of women singing to our God
It's the truth of his promise
"Behold. I am doing a new thing."
It's the little things that keep me going.
But it's times like these that I need the biggest perspective change. I need to quit feeling sorry for myself. I need to quit moping around about how I don't have time. It's times like these that the simplest, purest things minister to me, bring me alive, bring me joy. So often I get caught up in complaining that I fail to see the beauty of life, the beauty of the little things.
It's the toothless smiles of kindergarteners
It's the reassuring hug of a friend
It's the misplacement of articles (and tutoring ESL students)
It's the excitement of reading a poem again, and finally understanding
It's the laughter of a skype call with a friend overseas
It's the sweat pouring off my forehead as I run
It's the honking of geese over the lake
It's the taste of a chocolate chip cookie made with love
It's the sound of my family's voice
It's the wisdom of a friend
It's the victory that comes through answered prayer
It's the community found in others
It's the heat of a fire, the cold behind me
It's the sparks flying up and being swallowed in the expanse of blue
It's the voices of women singing to our God
It's the truth of his promise
"Behold. I am doing a new thing."
It's the little things that keep me going.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Iron Sharpens Iron
We are all influenced by the people who surround us. The people we do life with are going to impact us.... sometimes it can be the way we talk or the phrases we pick up. Sometimes we can even pick up other people's accents. We may unconsciously change the way we dress to become more like those we spend time with (especially if we go shopping together). We are encouraged to try new hobbies: maybe tennis or biking. Maybe singing. Maybe acting. Our personalities begin to evolve... to change shape according to who we spend time with, and what they might be like.
Before coming to college, this thought somehow never even crossed my mind. Of course I knew the general idea of choosing friends wisely.... but the idea of a roommate is so intense. To live in the same room, go to class together, eat meals together, spend the weekends together... of course you will be influenced.
Sometimes roommates do things shockingly different... new ways that might never have even occurred to me... just because I've never done it that way, even though it might be completely legitimate. Somehow we get so narrow-minded: my way of _______ is the only way. You are so weird. WHY would you do it like that? Until suddenly you try flipping the toilet paper the other way. Until you try cleaning the mirror that way. Until you allow yourself to not be fifteen minutes early to everything. Until you try going to bed a little earlier... and rising a little sooner.
Suddenly your eyes open, and you realize that the other way might actually suit you better. That there is a reason behind the weirdness. And suddenly it's not weird anymore. It's just different.
In some ways, rooming with someone is like marriage (or so I'm told). You have to survive with this person. You don't have a way out. You must make it work. You can choose to get into tiffs and arguments over toilet paper and toothpaste and cleaning and music. Or you can choose to let things slide. You can choose to let the communication die, or you can keep it happening... voicing your needs, and being aware of theirs.
It is in the "letting things slide" and in keeping open paths of communication that my roommate and I have found the immense friendship and beauty of being roommates. Daily showing grace to each other... knowing what we need, and being there to offer it... even if we're in the middle of doing something. To share how our days went. To laugh and giggle at the ridiculous things, and to cry at the things that hurt. To walk alongside of each other. To hold each other up when we stumble.
Words can't quite describe what Bekah has come to mean to me. She is a beautiful person, and an amazing Sister in Christ. She drives me to the Lord in times of need. She prays over me. She hugs me, and cherishes me like few others know how to do. She knows exactly what I need, even if it is just to sit with me and listen, or to cry with me. She offers me Truth when my soul is starving for it.
She serves me above and beyond what I could ask for. She has opened my eyes to so many new things. And she's always willing to do something completely ridiculous with me, just to laugh.
Bek. I am blessed to have you in my life.
Before coming to college, this thought somehow never even crossed my mind. Of course I knew the general idea of choosing friends wisely.... but the idea of a roommate is so intense. To live in the same room, go to class together, eat meals together, spend the weekends together... of course you will be influenced.
Sometimes roommates do things shockingly different... new ways that might never have even occurred to me... just because I've never done it that way, even though it might be completely legitimate. Somehow we get so narrow-minded: my way of _______ is the only way. You are so weird. WHY would you do it like that? Until suddenly you try flipping the toilet paper the other way. Until you try cleaning the mirror that way. Until you allow yourself to not be fifteen minutes early to everything. Until you try going to bed a little earlier... and rising a little sooner.
Suddenly your eyes open, and you realize that the other way might actually suit you better. That there is a reason behind the weirdness. And suddenly it's not weird anymore. It's just different.
In some ways, rooming with someone is like marriage (or so I'm told). You have to survive with this person. You don't have a way out. You must make it work. You can choose to get into tiffs and arguments over toilet paper and toothpaste and cleaning and music. Or you can choose to let things slide. You can choose to let the communication die, or you can keep it happening... voicing your needs, and being aware of theirs.
It is in the "letting things slide" and in keeping open paths of communication that my roommate and I have found the immense friendship and beauty of being roommates. Daily showing grace to each other... knowing what we need, and being there to offer it... even if we're in the middle of doing something. To share how our days went. To laugh and giggle at the ridiculous things, and to cry at the things that hurt. To walk alongside of each other. To hold each other up when we stumble.
Words can't quite describe what Bekah has come to mean to me. She is a beautiful person, and an amazing Sister in Christ. She drives me to the Lord in times of need. She prays over me. She hugs me, and cherishes me like few others know how to do. She knows exactly what I need, even if it is just to sit with me and listen, or to cry with me. She offers me Truth when my soul is starving for it.
She serves me above and beyond what I could ask for. She has opened my eyes to so many new things. And she's always willing to do something completely ridiculous with me, just to laugh.
Bek. I am blessed to have you in my life.
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