I have been characterized on numerous occasions as a quiet, thoughtful person who doesn't speak much. I've been told I'm a deep thinker, and a problem solver. These things are true. I like that they are true. They help me to visualize myself as wise, caring, confident, and insightful. I feel pretty good about that. Most of the time.
I wish that was the whole picture.
The truth is that often that quiet, thoughtful part of my personality is often a mask for fear. The truth is that often when I'm feeling particularly insecure about my faith and my worth in Christ I simply smile, shrug, and explain that "I really just don't have much to say on the subject." The truth is that I struggle deeply with sin that I simply don't want other people to know about. It's embarrassing, shameful actually, to try to explain that honestly, the reason I'm not talking much is because I'm afraid of what I might say and who might find out. I might open myself up so wide that people might find out that I'm not quite as admirable and stoic of a figure as they thought.
It's silly really. Or, rather, it's pride.
I'm discovering that God is a God of great mercy. I'm discovering that he loves us all, including myself, unconditionally. I'm finding that even when I've put up every kind of defensive wall I can think of to hide what I can't bear to be seen, He can obliterate those walls in a unrelenting yet completely gentle way. As painful as that really is, the freedom it brings is incomparably and brilliantly life giving. It's new life, and it is so very good.
I wish that was the whole picture.
The truth is that often that quiet, thoughtful part of my personality is often a mask for fear. The truth is that often when I'm feeling particularly insecure about my faith and my worth in Christ I simply smile, shrug, and explain that "I really just don't have much to say on the subject." The truth is that I struggle deeply with sin that I simply don't want other people to know about. It's embarrassing, shameful actually, to try to explain that honestly, the reason I'm not talking much is because I'm afraid of what I might say and who might find out. I might open myself up so wide that people might find out that I'm not quite as admirable and stoic of a figure as they thought.
It's silly really. Or, rather, it's pride.
I'm discovering that God is a God of great mercy. I'm discovering that he loves us all, including myself, unconditionally. I'm finding that even when I've put up every kind of defensive wall I can think of to hide what I can't bear to be seen, He can obliterate those walls in a unrelenting yet completely gentle way. As painful as that really is, the freedom it brings is incomparably and brilliantly life giving. It's new life, and it is so very good.
