We build up walls
A layered facade we thicken to hide insecurity
A hardened mask of independence
A shield to lock in feelings
A resolve to avoid hurting or being hurt again
A layering of something that appears more perfect than the raw emotion, and realness of ourselves that lay messy and vulnerable underneath.
A layering of something that appears more perfect than the raw emotion, and realness of ourselves that lay messy and vulnerable underneath.
We insert windows
Small openings of light that allowing others to see in
But we control the opening, dressing it up and tinting the view
Another cloak covering the mess and reality of our life
Half-truths
What if I took down my walls - what if the window into my life showed you my real life?
It might look like a morning where my coffee is warmed 12 times before it touches my lips
Too distracted to drink my coffee
Because I'm rushing about from room to room accomplishing half of tasks, while checking email and scrolling through Facebook
Requesting (there's my first mistake) rooms be cleaned 6 times before I come in with the broom and threaten to dispose of any lingering toys littering the floor
And the homeschool class bell doesn't ring to start until 10:42 (that might have been today)
It might look like a morning where I sit quietly over my Bible
And after soul filling prayer, journaling and peace
Loose my patience as bickering and unkindness fill the rooms of our house and kids get sent to separate corners to stare at dust bunnies
What if you asked how I was doing - and I answered honestly?
What if we really wanted to know how each other was doing?
Do we?
Over oatmeal we (my six and eight year old) discussed; why we think it's okay to lie to each other?
Why, when something is wrong do we say "nothing"
If we're not telling the truth we are lying.
I've accidentally taught my children that putting up walls, and lying about how we truly feel is acceptable without even trying.
How did that happen?
It is easy for me to write about what's real
I stare at the blinking cursor and the realness of me, the imperfection that makes us all equal drips from my fingers
Anyone else tired of trying to appear perfect, like we've got it all together?
What would happen if we lived
Honestly lived?
If we quit trying to be something more than broken people living in a broken world that need someone perfect to love us?
What if we quit working on ourselves and let ourselves be worked on?
What if we allowed the ONE who knows us, who created us to break down our walls?
What if we lived in the power that we can't change ourselves, or anyone else?
But relish in and share the love and knowledge of the ONE who can?
"...but what I have I give you in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk" - Acts 3:6
For the Love of being worked on in all my imperfection, giving what I have, and living honestly,
ME
It might look like a morning where my coffee is warmed 12 times before it touches my lips
Too distracted to drink my coffee
Because I'm rushing about from room to room accomplishing half of tasks, while checking email and scrolling through Facebook
Requesting (there's my first mistake) rooms be cleaned 6 times before I come in with the broom and threaten to dispose of any lingering toys littering the floor
And the homeschool class bell doesn't ring to start until 10:42 (that might have been today)
It might look like a morning where I sit quietly over my Bible
And after soul filling prayer, journaling and peace
Loose my patience as bickering and unkindness fill the rooms of our house and kids get sent to separate corners to stare at dust bunnies
What if you asked how I was doing - and I answered honestly?
What if we really wanted to know how each other was doing?
Do we?
Over oatmeal we (my six and eight year old) discussed; why we think it's okay to lie to each other?
Why, when something is wrong do we say "nothing"
If we're not telling the truth we are lying.
I've accidentally taught my children that putting up walls, and lying about how we truly feel is acceptable without even trying.
How did that happen?
It is easy for me to write about what's real
I stare at the blinking cursor and the realness of me, the imperfection that makes us all equal drips from my fingers
Anyone else tired of trying to appear perfect, like we've got it all together?
What would happen if we lived
Honestly lived?
If we quit trying to be something more than broken people living in a broken world that need someone perfect to love us?
What if we quit working on ourselves and let ourselves be worked on?
What if we allowed the ONE who knows us, who created us to break down our walls?
What if we lived in the power that we can't change ourselves, or anyone else?
But relish in and share the love and knowledge of the ONE who can?
"...but what I have I give you in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk" - Acts 3:6
For the Love of being worked on in all my imperfection, giving what I have, and living honestly,
ME
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