some favorite things.

GPS

I manipulate the truth all the time.

• I hide how I am really feeling,
• I hide my bratty and jaded disgust when I think my friends come across as lazy or disrespectful,
• I hide my opinions when I am not sure what authority figures will think of them,
• I hide my pain when I do not want to deal with the gravity of healing,
• I hide myself when I do not want to face the unyielding presence of God,
• I hide my mistakes so as not to shatter the stereotypes some of my friends have of me,
• I hide my naiveté when I want to come across as “having been around the block,”
• I hide my callousness when I want people to think they are the first to share something with me,
• I hide my Bible when I do not want to have my flesh and bone divided to the marrow,
• I hide in downtown coffee shops late at night when I want to pretend I am not tied to the responsibilities I have on campus,
• I hide my heart when I want to flirt with a guy just to have fun,
• I hide my playful side when I am afraid a guy will read me the wrong way,
• I hide my face when I am too busy to be bother by the homeless woman I pass on the way to my car.

I do all these things to keep a semblance of harmony in my relationship with God, others, and self. I do not know why I value this facade of harmony when you would think by now I should know that life, love, and growth are irregular humps on a pulse chart. That connecting myself to breathing machines that control the intake of air into my lungs may make my existence more uniform, but in regulating myself to an artificial source, I severely limit myself and my view of God. I want to take in the gasps of air, feel tingles creep up my spine as the wind picks up a chill, be knocked off my feet in a whirlwind. I cannot escape God and I do not want to, no matter how hard I strain to hide in my discomfort.

Here I am, Lord.

You already knew that, but now I do, too.