Slapping On A Smile

 I caught myself doing it again: slapping on a smile when nothing inside of me feels alive. Saying that I'm "fine" when the whole world around me doesn't feel fine and all I want is to bring back what's been lost and to stop the soul-bleeding and the suffering and to have the ground quit shaking all the time. This comes from a heart that's tired. Honesty spilling out of a spirit that is weary and flesh that is weak. And somehow, God knows. He always does. And judge me for being here, He does not.    

Years ago, I lived a life behind a mask. I pretended. I acted. I told the world that I was happy. I gave the impression that I was spiritual. I tried to be the good kid. Yet, behind it all, I held deep doubts and fears and trauma and pain that I never let the world see. And so they thought I was okay. They believed the show. And so it continued. For a very long time. I didn't let anyone into my dark place. And I wasn't even certain God could invade that space. Until the Light-rays penetrated and it all changed forever. I stopped hiding behind who I thought I should be and started living into more of who I was created to be. And the journey has produced many strangely beautiful things, one brave step at a time. Slowly, surely growing into and becoming someone who lives vulnerably, authentically. Someone who isn't afraid to ask for help. Someone who doesn't need to be strong all the time but rather, can learn to be dependent and to lean hard on the One who has seen it all and be there for every part. 

But the truth is, I still struggle with this. I still wrestle to trust. I still battle with fear. The mask is never completely far away and I sometimes find myself tempted to put it back on. I think a lot of creatives are this way. They pour themselves out in their work yet often hide the reality of who they are. They disguise their pain with jokes or art or words or all manner of expression, all the while stifling the hurts so that the world never finds out the truth. Because what if it did? Would they still be loved? 

I shook my head at the irony the other day. Me exchanging a social media DM with someone who infrequently connects with me and compliments my posts, telling them to shift their mindset and be the change for hope instead of the perpetuation of the collective murmur yet realizing that I'm having to work to do the same. Me chatting with another reader over DM and answering their sincere question of how I am with a smiling face when all I felt like doing was crying. Because I'm tired. And I'm sad. But why should I say that out loud and why should I add to someone else's load and... yes, here I am again, thinking that hiding is the pathway to healing when it never really is. 

Perhaps this is all of us in a way and this is a life-long process and some never find the place of true honesty they've been after and the only path that really counts is the one Jesus laid forth: that the invitation wasn't to come with all your life together and all your beliefs figured out and all your plans well-laid but to arrive as the weary and heavy-laden with the promise that we could exchange that for rest. That the Prince of Peace would help us find in Himself what our search has been about all along. 

Yes, I may host a podcast and I may write a weekly blog and sure, I might preach all the time that it's vital to wholeness that we stop pretending and hiding and that we step into the Light if we would have Him invade our darkness but the reality is that, I'm just saying out loud what I need to be reminded of. I have not mastered any of this and chances are high you haven't either. But we're slowly, courageously stepping out together, trusting for grace to guide us on the way, and believing that the masks can fall in the loving presence of Him who welcomes us all.