Layer After Layer.

Honest Reflections.
Originally uploaded by iamxlcp

Back from 2 weeks in Southern Africa. I'll have to post later on specifics.

On a trip like this, you can't help but come back changed. Someone asked if I was changed. Immediately I answered yes. This was at the end of our stay in Katse and I had started seeing some of the things God had done, all very small. God doesn't always work in huge, astounding ways. But then again, whenever He does work, that's something to pay attention to.

Throughout the few weeks, transparency definitely seemed to be a theme. Which isn't so great for me. Being transparent means showing my weakness, and I know that if I'm honest, I'm horribly weak. But I have always refused to let that large part of me show. I wanted to appear strong, like I have it all together. Thus, the scars I now bear on my arm and leg. When my then boyfriend & I broke up, my way of "coping" got so much worse than it alread was. I wanted to control and prevent the emotion that I knew was otherwise inevitable. I didn't want to hurt, and I didn't want to come off to others as the weak one who crumbled after a stupid break up.

So you see, transparency and I don't mix well. I don't cry. And I don't like to let people too close. When I do, I eventually snap out of it & try to push them away. And I don't want to be dependent.

Slap on a mask. Apply layer after layer. And let that become the new face of me. Just as long as no one sees the real me.

Each morning, 3 of us shared testimonies. Everyone was so honest. They were honest about struggles, about fears and weaknesses. Weaknesses.

But I could feel the unity. And I felt a lack of judgement. The morning came for me to speak for a few minutes. I held my breath and dove in.

I started out,

"I've always left out a bit of my testimony, but I realize it's the story of the last 2 years of my life I'm ignoring. So I'm going to try to be transparent today..."

The whole way through my voice shook and I couldn't catch my breath. I said what I needed to say, though. Everything was finally out in the open.

Transparency.

Maybe that morning made a lasting change. Probably not, though, even while I did learn so much from it. I still see myself pushing people away. Even today, at this moment. ...One of my closest friends, even my mom. And then I wonder why I feel so hopelessly alone.

But perhaps it's moments like this one that peel back even just one layer of this mask. And that in and of itself is progress.

kadi.

Heavy and Light.

It’s the start of a new year; the first day has come to a close. And it’s easy, it seems, to go into a new year with feelings filled with doubt, fear, failure- especially after a year when those words characterized each day.

Last night at the New Year’s Eve party, the speaker (Chris Collins) mentioned pain, suffering. He said we all have it; we’ll all experience it firsthand. But, it’s something that will not last.

I read someone’s words earlier today, saying how she was glad for the rain to stop as she was driving home. Maybe that’s a bit like our reality…

Everywhere it rains. But everywhere the rain eventually stops. Even in the areas where it rains for months on end, it all comes to an end and in turn reveals a sun that’s been there all along.

Pain is ever present in a fallen world, as is suffering, failure, fear. Unfortunately, though it’s what we chose in the beginning. We will go through times when we just can’t see the sun anymore. We will. But it also all has to come to an end sometime.

I’ve also heard a phrase, “heavy and light”, be used to describe our lives. Things come in opposites. Heavy and light. Life isn’t always happy, everyone can attest to that. But life isn’t always sad, either.

Life can suck; it can be a living hell. And I have scars as reminders of that truth. But maybe just the fact that I wake up each morning to a new day is something to find hope in. And maybe, too, that whole analogy of the glass half full, half empty kind of thinking- maybe it’s just good that there’s actually something in there.

I can look outside and easily see evidence of struggle and failure. But I can also see a creation so pure. I can see my God’s signature in everything and everyone, even the most beat up and bruised. And that should be something that gives me reason to praise Him forever. The fact that each morning I’m greeted with a new day that reminds me I’m given another chance, no matter how bad I screwed up the night before. I’m given another chance to learn to trust God and believe in what He can do, no matter how far I had run just hours earlier.

It doesn’t matter. He is patient, with arms always extended. He doesn’t care how many times we blame Him or how many times we ignore Him, He wants us and chooses to give us another sunrise.

kadi.