The “Really Truth”
Sometimes words just flow out of me like maple flowing from a new tap in a tree. I didn’t realize this until very recently, but the words are always there, whether they are written or not. I don’t know if everyone’s mind works at this rate, but it feels alarmingly fast most days, like a river made of snow melt, rushing down the mountains.
“Slow to speak, quick to listen, slow to anger,” quips James. Oh, how I loathe that statement. It’s truly the epitome of the opposite of my heart. My tongue lashes like a cobra, my heart seizes with rage, and my ear tunes deaf to incoming sound.
This is true, except for a few select moments in my life. I want to talk about one of those times today: when those I love most get “really real” with me. When they speak hard truth, the kind of hard love that can only come from a place of adoration and grace. The “really” truth as my dad would call it.
In those moments, I am paralyzed, like the prey of the cobra.
When the truth gets spoken, truth that is so deep, so raw, so real, it knocks the wind out of your chest, and leaves the mark of a gut punch, how do you react? How do you take reality when it feels like knives to your chest? Like fingernails running right down that fleshy heart? Do you swallow your pride? Take it “like a man?” Do you run? Cower in fear, hide out and ride out the storm?
I am paralyzed. Snappy retorts die on my lips. Anger flames to fear. When did I become this person? How do they know I am this person? Am I that transparent? They can see through me like a ghost.
Truth unlocks fear in me. Fear of myself, who I am, it shakes me to my core and reveals scars that are imbued into the deepest parts of myself. When those closest to me reveal that my carefully placed mask is just a facade and they know it, I shut down, move into DEFCON 1 and enter safety mode.
And in that cowering, shameful place – Jesus. He opens up, like a delicate flower on the water, waiting to bloom. He’s there, and reveals himself so intimately that it feels almost wrong.
Jesus binds up the brokenhearted and the torn and the broken and weak. He carries the shame and the fear and the heartbreak and the heartbeats. He uses the “really truth” to reveal Himself, through broken promises and whispered secrets and searing loss. He uses his servants, his people, who are also my people to speak love into wounds, to pour out healing onto sores, and to reveal my shame and my heartbreak for his glory.
Why is it that when we are at our most honest, we see more of Jesus?
The pain of honest places is genuine and real. However, when Jesus touches those wounds, he can bring healing to the hurt. This week, I pursue transparency and honesty and the “really truth”, I will be paralyzed. I will try to hide and cower.
And Jesus will be there.