One question I puzzle over a lot is whether everything in my life matches up. A few years ago, I auditioned for music colleges all around the country. One liked my playing enough to offer me a scholarship. The next day, I went to practice, and I was suddenly racked with fear. What if they discover that I can’t really play my scales? That I don’t really play as well as they think I do?
Scales apart, it does seem important that people know the real you. That you don’t change in personality or in actions or in morals when you are with different people. That what you say and what you do matches, and especially with what you believe.
Now, is is something I find very hard to do. I’m very good at hiding. I’m totally pants at asking for help, and even sometimes turn it down when it is offered. do you want to borrow my hairdryer? Are you sure? Really? (True story. I gave in in the end and borrowed it. But only after about 5 mins of the above.)
The time I spent on anti-depressants gave me something I could relatively easily tell people was wrong. Yes, I’m feeling a bit low at the moment, and I’m taking some pills to help that. But no. Hardly anyone knew. Hardly anyone knows that when I do get low, something bad might happen and I might go back down into that place of darkness, where the sun sure doesn’t shine.
On the contrary, on the outside, things look fine. Work happens, shallow friendships are made (with a few deeper ones as well), it is easy to be Little Miss Perfect. But it always seems that there is so much at stake.
I pray that my words might match my actions. I pray that my actions might match what I believe about Jesus, who lived among us as a vulnerable person, who came to serve and die for us. Who was perfect, but also human. That his power is made perfect in our weakness.
Calling into the silence 