Jesus gave. He performed miracles, raised the dead, and healed the sick. He preached the Gospel of Hope. He poured himself into his disciples and faced his critics head on. And when they came to seize him in the Garden of Gethsemane, the horde of the chief priest and elders brought swords and clubs. Jesus, almost comically, addressed the show of force,”Day after day I sat in the Temple teaching, and you never so much as lifted a hand against me.”*

Jesus did not hold his heart in a secret drawer. He did not protect Himself. He wept over Lazarus, and was often triggered by compassion. He berated the cities of Chorazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum for being like spoiled children. He felt anxiety in the Garden before his arrest. And he often went away to be in solitude.

My human experience says ultimately, Jesus believed in Himself, that no matter what the response was from the people, Pharisees, Sadducees, or Priests, He didn’t stop. He risked being know to the world…and they crucified Him for it. That’s not the the kind of result any of us want. I certainly don’t want to be crucified for being myself. 

Yes. I’m comparing myself to Jesus. He’s my example, not my unattainable-mythical-super-hero-figure God. He made promises, and I believe He’ll keep them. 

The major flaw in my belief in being know is that it comes with acceptance and comfort.That being know is safe. But that’s not true. It can be true. I can talk about my struggle with body image or suicide to a close friend, and reasonably expect to be assured. But what about you internet? What about the seven billion other people our planet? 

Today, right now, I’m starting to believe being known- being honest and open and authentic- is not about how people respond. It’s about walking in the truth of who I am as much as I am able. Everyday. 

Yesterday, I was in my car for seven hours on a drive from Oregon to Redding. At one point, I called to chat with my mom. As we chatted I drove by Mount Shasta in all its glory. A flash of thought over took me as I beheld the beautiful mountain landscape. How uncovered and naked it looked, but also powerful and strong. Then- as if on cue- my mom asked about my holiday plans. Tears leaked down my face as I told her I hadn’t thought about it. Then I paused for a moment. Do I tell her the whole truth? Yes. Be vulnerable. I didn’t run from the question and how it affected me. How I planned to be with someone else during the Holidays, but now I had to consider other alternatives.  

We talked for another 20 minutes on the subject. I’m still sad about it. I still miss her everyday, and I know I’ve got to continue onward. I’m comfortable in the tension. God meets me every morning and sustains me. 

I want to be uncovered and unguarded, strong and powerful. I think what the church taught us kids- protect your heart- is a load of bullshit. The only sure way to have a healthy heart is to use it, give it space to grow and learn, and be who it is. 

My days of waiting for a safe space to be me are at an end.