Breaking Silence

Ever been in the middle of a conversation with someone - a really important conversation - and you just breathe deeply and tighten your lips, not knowing what to say, and too cautious to open your mouth and say the wrong thing? 

That scenario would be this blog. I've had so many thoughts lately. And I've been painstakingly analyzing which of them should find voice here and which should not. 

But, when I'm honest, I know I can't live my life in silence just because I'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing. This conversation that I carry on with you, talking of the day-to-day or the deep and weighty, it's an important conversation. And I have gone silent on you - afraid to say what's really going on in my heart. For fear maybe you wouldn't understand. Or maybe it would be "too much". But, in my naiveté I have at times poked in the chest of the generation before me and challenged my parents, my pastors, my mentors to be "real". Only to turn inward and hide my deepest thoughts from even myself. 

So, in this journey of courageous "reality", I choose to keep letting  you in. A Greek phrase I learned a few years ago has affected me deeply. (And if this is wrong, spare me the correction and just let me enjoy the concept, ok?) A professor told us that, in ancient times, when a potter would create a new vessel, he would form it and fire it and then hold it up to the light. If the piece was found to have hairline cracks (as most were), the potter would take wax and smooth it over the cracks to sure them up. And to make them less visible. 

Pieces of pottery left with their flaws evident, uncovered, were described as "sine-cera", or "without wax".  From which we gained our word, "sincere". 

I want to be sincere. Our flaws shouldn't be reasons for us to judge one another. But reasons for us to love each other. I've discovered recently that one of the most profound acts of worship I can offer the Lord is to acknowledge my weaknesses, and then to serve Him with all my might in spite of them - and watch Him make up for them, and then some with His 'more-than-enough' grace.

One of my favorite pictures of sincerity is my Grandmother. 

 She has lived her life being "real". Taking chances. Being unafraid to make mistakes (though perhaps a little slow in admitting them - a family trait :).  She lives outloud. Quiet when necessary. But she has not let her voice be silenced. Never her praise muffled. 

I want to live that way. Loud. Proud of what God is doing, even if what He's doing is humbling me...