“Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart,” Suzanne Collins’s Mockingjay (156).
Fear and common sense make me think exactly like that.
When I was in high school, my mom told me that her favorite thing about me is my lack of pretense.
I pick my nose in the car.
And admitting that, in a strange way, connects me to you.
Because you do it too 🙂
Don’t lie. We all know you do.
But the hard thing isn’t in fessing up to who and what I am. It’s being that person in front of you and beside you.
I don’t mind you knowing I cry.
I mind you seeing the tears. I mind you touching them to wipe them away.
I don’t mind you knowing I’m broken.
I mind you seeing it.
When I give blood, I totally look away the moment before they stick me. Because it’s one thing to know that they’re taking blood out of my body. It’s quite another thing to see it flowing. It’s more real. And it’s grosser.
Just like it’s one thing for me to tell you I’m a nose-picker and another thing for you to see my boogers. 🙂
Like it’s safer for me to just tell you that I’m a sinner than it is for me to sin in front of you.
A Christian teacher can present “Biblical knowledge” and at the same time be completely detached from the person(s) to whom he is ministering. (disciplers.org)
Or, at least it was.
But God has been doing things to me.
And I’ve let people know me so much more than is my natural inclination.
But at the first taste of trouble, I detach myself from the body. It would be so much easier to go to an old folks’ home and read to them
or hang out with refugees
I should love the body. The church.
Because she is the bride of Christ.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it’s excruciating to be myself to her.
Who would’ve thought the suburban church was so much harder on a girl than the plains of Mongolia or mentoring at-risk kids?
Who would’ve thought it’d take so much more of Jesus to serve and love those who know Him than it does to serve and love those who don’t?
It may take ten times longer to put myself back together, if I was whole to start with…
But isn’t the point of the gospel that I’m starting out broken? That I can’t put myself back together.
Every choice should then be made in the light of brokenness and how Christ is the one putting me back together. And it doesn’t take Him ten times as long as anything. And excruciating vulnerability isn’t as much a choice as a constant state of humanity.