My Words
Like a vapor, Christmas and New Years are tucked away suddenly into the vault of time. Gone like a poof, we're left with a January chill inviting us into the deep of winter. Winter is stark and clean. It leaves us with a clean slate on which to write anew. I often mindlessly sing along with the John Lennon song quoted above. It's one of my Christmas favorites. This year, though, the first time I heard it, the words seemed to slice right through me. What HAVE I done with myself this year? Another year is over, and new one just begun. Am I using the talents God has given me, or am I floundering in a vast sea of broken dreams and heartache?
Swimming around with all that angst and emotion might be the easier road, right? So many of us have plain old stuff going on in our lives – and our friends can look right past it because we've become so good at hiding it. Our finances are falling apart, or our family lives are crumbling around us. We build walls and tell ourselves that we can't accomplish our hopes and dreams this year because of everything going on around us. We worry and gnash our teeth for fear our neighbors will see behind the façade and pry out the real truth. I'm not immune to all this teeth-gnashing. I have so many faults and so many dreams that have been crushed. I would like to hide away from public view at times so no one can see the real me. The problem is, I've bared my soul at various times, so it's pretty much too late. You've seen me.
I'm not much of a resolution maker. I know what I want and try to do it. I don't use fancy, precious words to prettify my life. I like to shoot straight and say what's on my mind. All this aside, I'm still an expert at hiding things in my life. What if everyone knew what was really happening? You know how it is when you find out a morsel of gossip. Oh my gosh! Did they really do that? I just can't believe it. All the while you know that has happened to you. Why do we hide and pretend that everyday things don't happen to us? It's that innate sense of self preservation that leads us to pretend we're something we aren't.
My life isn't always pretty. It's not wrapped up in a neat package with a crisp bow, put out for display. It's sometimes ugly, and pretty rough around the edges. I know that I'm wrapped up in God's box, though. Ragged and torn as I may look, all that dirt that covers me is also covered by the One who saved me. He's put me here, battered and bruised, to tell a story. To fashion a word or two for anyone who will read it. At times, I may want to hide and pretend to be someone I'm not - to care too much about what people may think. Then I remember that song again. The one that has coursed its way through my cortex more times than I wanted it to. "So this is Christmas – and what have you done? Another year over and a new one just begun."
I realize that I am doing. Word by word, I'm forming who I am and what I stand for. My words, strung together loosely, are what you see. They are me.