Secrets

Some stories want to be told. They come pouring out effortlessly, and sometimes unexpectedly. Then there are others that as one friend told me, "you take to the grave."
I've been thinking about that second class of secrets, the "take it to the gravers." I'm not sure I agree. I'm no advocate of broadcasting one's business, but perhaps there is one person, or maybe a few people with whom you could entrust your entire story. How tragic to leave this planet and no one knew you. I mean really knew you.

I think of people who are diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Could you imagine keeping secrets and then not being able to control when they are told? Your disease decided it. Or what if you lost the ability to recall some memories again? I suppose it could be relative to the memory. Most wouldn't care about losing a terrible one. Those are the ones we want to forget. But even horrific memories have played a role in the shaping of who we are, and can transform those around us. Imagine if the Jews who suffered at the hands of Hitler never shared their stories. What if they chose to protect themselves from the pain and shame of those recollections? What if they chose to be viewed as strong rather than vulnerable or victims of the Nazis? What if Jesus suffered, but never shared the extent of His suffering? God in the hands of man. Talk about a story of humility. We don't naturally enjoy revealing the hardships and humiliating moments of our lives.  Shared or not, these stories are as much a part of the shaping of who we are as anything else. My point is, suffering though by definition painful, isn't powerless or pointless. Victimization reveals vulnerability, but it doesn't negate hope or cancel victory. Often it produces it. Triumph has its roots in tragedy, so your narrative, no matter where it falls on the spectrum of good and bad has value. Even if not for you, the telling of your story might prevent a thousand disasters in the lives of those around you.

 I realize how scary this must sound. Weirder still, is that it is coming from me. Trust does not come easily to me. It is rather elusive actually. I have to know you, prove that you listen, and are loyal. It's about a two-decade process. Even then, that doesn't guarantee that I'll lay it all out for you, only that you'd be in the running if I ever decided to.  Still, I can't help but wonder who is served by keeping anything a secret? It is the "why" behind the action that gives me pause and has me questioning Why do we keep secrets? Protection seems the obvious answer, but is it really protection? What and who are we guarding against? And what do we keep out, by keeping our guards so high? Perhaps we keep out judgment, and persecution as a result. But consider that we also keep out healing, health, and growth. Who is really served by protecting a secret? Further, there is some indication that the desire to self-protect might be driven by a weakness. That, I find unacceptable. Let's eliminate that. Actions from fear and weakness are no way to live.

I understand that there are things you could only share with a select few. There may even be things that you can only share with one person. The point isn't that we walk around spewing our story like a Grimm's fairy tale, but that we share it. All of it. The main reason is freedom. Whatever is hidden has power over you. You are a servant to it.  It is the silent overseer deciding how you could act. Who you could be around. How much you can truly be loved. And isn't that the whole reason people hide secrets anyway? They want to protect the public view of themselves, an retain whatever value can be gained from that view. Love. Fear. Idolization. Respect. We have an internal evaluator ever asking, "How much would I be loved and accepted if these things are known of me?" How would people view me if they knew...?"
Mostly we hide what we are or have done because we don't want others to know the "real us." It is too risky. It could be a potential impediment to them loving us. Respecting us. But the desire to hold onto social approval is a mighty snare, built on the fear of man. It is a weird sort of prison, one built by the hands of the captive to protect him from the thing he actually wants. Meaning we want love, so we don't disclose out of fear of rejection or a denial of love. But because we don't disclose, the attention and affections we receive are not real. They are not based on truth. They are for the person we pretend to be. They are not based on who we are, but who we are not, who we purport to be. We are then forced to stay in that prison, because we have built an image on falsehood. Even under the best of circumstances when we play the part well, when everyone believes the lie of the image we present, there is no real peace in the love and respect garnered there. Instead there is conflict because we know the truth. Still, we must maintain the image to maintain the acceptance. This is the broad ramifications of secrets. They change you. They imprison you. They make you become something you are not to protect the thing that you actually are, have done, or want.

Many of us aren't completely fake. We just have a few things we'd like to keep to ourselves. I think that's the problem. That thing is "keeping us to ourselves." It hinders us from being a light to another. From being seen. It keeps us closed off. Greater still it hinders us from the free flow of the divine work in us. Primarily because the power of someone's life relates heavily to what they have been able to overcome, learn from, and celebrate as a result of their journey. It is the story of what God has brought them through, is bringing them through, and allowing them to keep surviving. Maturity, and growth is revealed in the things we have been able to honestly overcome.  It is also the thing that is most attractive about us. Do you think anyone wants to hear about overcoming alcoholism from a person who has never had a drink? No. We want that story from the horse's mouth. Suffered abuse? Guess who you will be more likely to reach, or relate to? An abuse victim. Point is, often the things we are trying to hide or protect in us or about us, is the potential light in us. It will be the thing that draws others to us, to God, to freedom. Don't hide it under a bushel or a of basket of fear.

The "what" in our story is important, because it highlights the "who." What we overcame shines a light on "how" we did so. Specifically, "who" helped us. To downplay the "what" in our story is to undercut  the "who" and the power of "how" they helped us.


Earlier I mentioned weakness as a reason we don't share. I don't mean to sound cruel, but often it is. We are too easily shaped by the opinions and applause of others. If our junk risks those most valued things then we clam up. We so esteem the thoughts of others, that we treasure their opinions above wholeness. Above God's glory. It is a very sad and apologetic sort of life. The careful covering of secrets is a constant reminder of not being worthy enough, a continuous apology for, and an acknowledgement of not being up to some perceived level. It also screams unforgiveness. It is unforgiveness of someone or of ourselves, because when you are free of a thing, you don't need to guard it or treat it with such high regard. You are free to share it and shout it from rooftops. You overcame it. It doesn't have any control over you. You control it. It is a thing of your past, something that you've moved beyond, like 80's perm and big hair. You don't tip toe around it. You talk about it. You are bold with the truth, and the "secret" becomes a strength.  It does your bidding. Not the other way around.

Still, the biggest drawback to secrets is living a lie. You end up losing out on purpose because of them. It is an impossibility and a fruitless effort to spend your life attempting to satisfy everyone else's expectations. The end result is you'll live below what you could have been.  Is that thing worth it? What are you hiding? Who are you protecting? Why?  Consider how it's controlling you? Let the light in. Take a risk. Expose the darkness to someone you trust. Allow real love to enter, and give the light of your story a chance to shine. Then, and only then can you be free. Truth alone, liberates the soul.

Accused an Punished For Me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2wB_LPcD34

I was a voice in that crowd.
My actions screamed consent.
Loud. Bold. I was proud.
Calling back in time,
Crucify Him! Crucify Him! CRUCIFY HIM!

I chose Barabbas that day.
Rebellion no stranger to me.
Defiant. Brazen. Pride exalted.
I yelled approval for evil above the masses,
I choose sin! I choose sin. I CHOOSE SIN!

He was silent that day for me.
The Word, His words births galaxies,
Wrecks enemies.
Defending Himself would render me guilty.
Love was silent that day for me.
His silence was for me.
His silence set me free.

He was accused and punished for me
Lies aimed at the flawless.
Hatred in my heart.
I wielded the whip of brutality
With precision and skill
A thirst for pain. A hunger to kill.

My guilt was the force behind the nails.
His blood on my hands.
Ungrateful. Violent. Dishonest.
I chose acceptance over righteousness.
I offered Him no comfort in His suffering.
Innocence was rejected by me.
Insulted by me. I denied by me. Betrayed by me.

I was dead.
And in my condemned state
Satan held my proxy.
I jeered. I mocked.
I belittled love in the process of saving my life!

Still, He remained faithful to His goodness.
He laid aside purity, nobility and ability.
Endured the cross. Disregarded shame.
Embodied humility.
Eyes fixed on joy to come.
The author and finisher of faith.
Delivered the hope of glory.

He gave justice all it demanded.
His punishment the total price of my innocence.
Mercy and grace flowed from the veins of the blameless.
His blood is life! The rescue of my soul.
I was blind. I was His enemy
He pardoned my treachery. My ignorance. My hypocrisy
Absolved by the divine
Made new by the immaculate. A matchless lamb.
The ultimate servant. An unconquerable king.

It's not by works that I have done.
I am the best of the Pharisees
Supposing if Jesus were here today,
I'd offer dissent to injustice.
I'd be a voice for Him.

He is here today. Here now.
How often I fail to speak. To stand.
Instead, seizing every opportunity to advance my temporal kingdom,
Except the gift provides the courage, and the Spirit provides wisdom-
I fail disastrously. Grievously. Thoroughly.
Always!

I stood convicted in a sea of souls.
God stepped in front for me.
I am the fruit of the grisly cross.
He bore the guilt. I was lost.
Time and distance made my deeds no less
Sinners and soldiers are the same.
My actions gave evil its cause,
His actions gave me His name.
He became that vile thing I was proven to be.
I was the sin. Now I am free.
He was accused and punished for me.

Hot dog or Hot dog sandwich?

My husband is Mr. easy. He's generally accepting and rarely critical. However I can earn his immediate rebuke with three words, "hot dog Sandwich." He insist that a "hot dog" is not a sandwich and persistence in calling it one does not actually make it so. I fundamentally disagree. Anything, between two things is by definition, a SANDWICH!!! Enter our household, and the great debate.

To settle this matter, I did what folks of our era do, I took it to Google. Imagine my shock to find that this topic has been discussed for quite sometime. So intense are the opinions, that the National Hot Dog and Sausage Counsel was asked to officially rule on the matter. Yes, there is such a thing. I'll save you the search. My husband is clearly running that counsel, because they got it wrong. They said it's a hot dog. Thankfully, my guy isn't aware of the official ruling, nor have I shared it with him. I'm rather fond of peace, and I prefer my environment gloat free.

Settle this for us. What say ye? A "hot dog," or a "hot dog sandwich?" Hint: correct answer written in bold.

"Auto-incorrect."

I have memory issues, primarily where names are concerned. To compensate for this, my brain overrides logic, common sense, and the truth with a peculiar habit. Whenever someone new introduces themselves, and I forget their name, my brain replaces their actual name with a handle of its choice. One that it ultimately decide fits that person best.
"Sure you told me your name was Judy five times. But we're still gonna call you Laura. You look more like a Laura." It's rather embarrassing. It comes off as uncaring.

I suspect that somewhere in my head there is an index of faces. When I meet someone, my mind involuntarily races through those files to see if this stranger's face matches its idea of the name. If it determines it does not, it automatically renames the person.
"You don't look like a Paul. You look more like a Jason, that's what we'll call you from now on. Poor "Jason" then has to remind me repeatedly of his actual name to retrain my thinking.

It gets worse. If I meet someone with the name of a person I previously knew, the new person will likely have to have a hint of the familiar, inexplicable characteristics I've come to associate with that name. It's an easier mental transition. Otherwise it throws me off.  So, if I knew a Susan who was blond, short, and overweight, and you happen to be a Susan who is tall, black and fit, That's probably not gonna go well. I'll just call you "Tina."
Once, I met two ladies in a new group. We'll call them Jill and Sophie. Unfortunately, I had previously known both a Jill and a Sophie. The Jill from the new group looked and acted more like the Sophie from the old group. Likewise, the Sophie from the new group looked, and acted more like the Jill from the old group. I switched their names immediately. I called Jill Sophie and Sophie Jill based solely on my past experiences with those names. Both assume I was struggling to keep their names straight. Nope! I was struggling to keep their identities separate from the identities of the people I knew with those names prior to meeting them.
Since I'm confessing, I might as well also tell you I have come to dislike certain names based on previous interactions with people of those names.
If your name is Lynden, I apologize in advance. It's gonna be a struggle to give you the benefit of the doubt. On the whole. I love the names Tina, Joan, Danielle, Crystal, Sarah, etc. They have been associated with good people in my life.

By now you are probably seeing this for the utter foolishness it is. Assessing people based on their names is about as deep as water in a saucer. The same can be said of  the assumptions we make of people before getting to know them. We distrust folks because they might look a certain way, be of a different economic status, size, beauty, culture or color. We assume and presume we know who they are. We assert our presumptions and assumptions as their identity. It's sad, and harmful. We need to let the actions of individuals speak for themselves.

Even when actions do speak, don't conclude to know a person based on a few actions or interactions. I remember being nervous in situations, and acting like an utter buffoon because of it. Judge me in those moments, and you'd be wrong, because you didn't actually see the real me. I'm just saying give folks more of a chance than google gives us when filling in a search. Don't assume because we see how someone began, we know where they are going, and we automatically know how they will end. Interactions with humans requires patience. That is why God is patient with us. It is why patience is a fruit or manifestation of the Spirit. We need it in order to survive each other. While we are on the topic of fruit, the bible says you'll "know them by their fruits." Please allow people to produce a couple before you judge resolutely. Don't assume you are automatically correct. You might just be "auto-incorrect."

Often, while I'm typing something into a search engine, and before I've even entered a complete word, there are already suggestions about where I should go. Sometimes I follow them, even though they had nothing to do with why I originally came. I set purpose aside, and rabbit trail. The very prompt of a new idea, causes me to entertain a new course. Changing the search, changes the mission.
A similar thing happens when my phone autocorrects a word. The meaning shifts, as does the weight, and emotion behind the message. This is why we must guard our input into the lives of others. Don't suggest an identity for folks that's not theirs. Don't call them anything that God hasn't. Don't be a part of misleading them down paths they never intended to go. Don't be a catalyst to their wandering or shift.  Perhaps you are thinking, "What does this have to do with me? These things are entirely up to the individual." I agree. Somewhat.

Studies have shown that speaking over plants positively, or negatively impacts their growth. The same is true of humans. Words give or take life. Be careful with the ones you use. Have a pure heart, and only speak the truth in love when you speak into the hearts and lives of people. It takes a lot of time and energy to live independent of the labels we are assigned. "The wise one. The pretty one. The strong one. The funny one. The smart one." I think we do this because it is easy. Unfortunately, it is the laziest approach to "knowing" someone. Assessing only by the eyes, and what is obvious is a disservice. It requires no significant investment of effort, time, love or patience. Even when what we see is true, "the creative one" is creative, "the angry one" is angry, there is still so much more we do not see.
And, what we are seeing is actually the end result of what we can't see. The heart. The visual is the most elementary step into relationship. Go beyond it. When Jesus said "you will know them by their fruit," He said so because He was telling us to use the fruit to determine the nature of the tree. He didn't say it because the fruit was all he wanted us to see.  He simply wanted us to know the source of the fruit, the tree.
The fruit is the end result of the planted seed. Much like the heart, the seed is overshadowed by what grows out of it. It's hard to see the origins of either, but major disruptions result above the surface of the ground in which the seed is planted, and the heart in which words take root. Much like seeds, we have a heart that produces outwardly. They earn us the labels. And even when those labels are all true, there is still an origin, a root cause that often goes unnoticed. I'm saying, notice. Sure, look at the fruit, but realize you aren't looking at the fruit to stay there. Look closer. You are looking at the fruit to make an assessment of the tree. Where did it come from? It's the why, and the rest of the story behind the fruit you do see. Don't focus exclusively on the end product, shift your gaze, and prayer to what's behind it. Our problem isn't the fruit as conveniently as it is to be seen, and blamed. It is the seed, the tree it produced as a result. Use the fruit to know the tree.

At the very least, we can learn to appreciate others in a more well rounded way. Let's go a little deeper than the surface. That "quiet one" might be quiet, or "the confident one" might be confident, but that's probably not all they are. They may shock you with who they really are, if given a chance to finish their search, and show you.
We are all the wisdom of God and a work in progress. Let's appreciate those things we see in others, but let's just wait to see what else the creator is doing in their lives, and hearts. He refines and defines. Our role is simply to agree with perfection. Let's not hold our opinions about His work, higher than the truth of His power to transform. Instead of locking others into a label, or assigning titles, just call them by their names. Hopefully, you remember what it is.