Lights

Is there anyone that fails?
Is there anyone that falls?
Am I the only one in church today feelin' so small?

Cause when I take a look around
Everybody seems so strong
I know they'll soon discover
That I don't belong

So I tuck it all away, like everything's okay
If I make them all believe it, maybe I'll believe it too
So with a painted grin, I play the part again
So everyone will see me the way that I see them
  
Is there anyone who's been there?
Are there any hands to raise?
Am I the only one who's traded
In the altar for a stage?

The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart

But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be?

Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away?
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay?

Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain?
But if the invitation's open
To every heart that has been broken
Maybe then we close the curtain
On our stained glass masquerade

These are the verses and chorus of the song Stained Glass Masquerade, by Casting Crowns. These words express how I feel so often around everyone I know. I wonder, "what if you knew the real me?" Would you still want to know me? Or would you walk away and reject me, wishing that I had never existed in your life?

I struggle with this so much. I try to pretend that everything is all right and that I don't have struggles. Of course, if you've been reading this blog, I imagine you know otherwise. But it's a façade I still maintain, nevertheless. Often I wish I didn't know how to act like this, but it's something I do very well.


Let me show you a picture of what it feels like sometimes. A few weeks ago, a preacher talked about character, and he described it as what someone would see if they were able to open us up and see into our inmost being. I, being the weird, imaginative person that I am, imagined taking a knife and cutting through the skin and all the layers to see the inmost man of the preacher. There I "saw" a vivid light coming from him, and thought his character is likely very strong. Then I turned the knife on myself, and cut through to see my own light. What I saw was a small, writhing ray of light, spinning and curling inward upon itself, rather like what a worm does after you dig out of the ground.


This brutal visual representation of my brokenness saddened me, but I hid it. Instead of letting people see this puny, pathetic, pitiful light, I put a distorted mirror around it, trying to make it seem like a raging torch instead of a flickering candle. I kept myself separated from everyone and continued to watch my light spin and curl, even though it cried out for help. I hurt to see myself in such a way. The last straw was when when I found myself slipping into old habits and lying to my best friends when they asked me how I was doing. Afterward I was so despondent and sad that I had returned to my Old Self that I went back and told them the truth.


Then a funny thing happened. I found the mirror I put up for my light distorted the others' lights as well. I discovered that the bright fires I thought surrounded me were only candles. They were as small as I was and needed truth just as much as I did.


I thought that I was the small weak one among my friends only to find out that when I revealed myself fully, they felt the same way about themselves. We were the same. We all needed and wanted to be open and seen for who we really are. We found unity in our brokenness, our weakness. And then something amazing happened. Our light grew.


If you put the flames of two candles together, in real life, you find that the flame rises and grows stronger. Well, when we released ourselves and saw each other truthfully, in some way our candles, our lights grew. They became stronger and our deep friendship became a little deeper, I think.


If we hadn't been open, if I hadn't been open, none of this would have happened. I would still be believing this age old lie that I'm the only one who struggles to be real to be worthy of acceptance. But it's not true. As someone once said, "We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same." 


I only hope I remember this in the years to come when I am tempted to keep my light to myself and refuse others access to it. May God continually remind me how much He has blessed me and how much He loves me. It is only because of Him that I have these friends and this freedom.


Holy is He and worthy of praise.