Paper Faces on Parade

I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till the word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces? – C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces

One of the greatest joys of relationships is the process of knowing and being known. There is a basic need to understand the world around us, to make sense of the seemingly insignificant events that make up our day-to-day lives. This same basic need extends to the people who make up our world. We have a need to be understood, to be known for who we truly are, and to be unconditionally accepted.

The problem, however, lies in the being known. We long for and desire the intimacy of being known by another person, but we fail to present our true selves to them. Instead, we hide behind carefully crafted masks that hide all of the doubts, insecurities, and imperfections we fear we possess. These masks make us feel safe, they are our comfort zone, yet they hinder us from being in true connection and relationship to the people around us.

We long to be known, but we are terrified of revealing our true self to others. Lies have been spoken over us and we have believed them. They have become more than just words; they are now our identities.

Worthless.

Shameful.

Ugliness.

Ignorance.

Violence.

Like chains longer and heavier than Marley’s we drag these lies around and we allow them to become our identity. We become something we are not and never open the door for someone to know us, to really understand us, because they may witness our weakness and struggles.

The Greeks say, “know thyself.”

Buddha says, “The mind is everything. What you think you become.” and “You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.

Ephesians says, “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”

The ability to know another human being cannot be achieved without first knowing yourself. And who are you?

You are not worthless. You are worthwhile.

You are not shameful. You are honorable

You are not ugly. You are beautiful.

You are not ignorant. You are wise.

You are not violent. You are peaceful.

Why?

Because God created you in His image. You are his perfect workmanship, a treasure, the apple of your Father’s eye and the pride of His heart. Listen to what He has to say about you and believe it.

Do not listen to the lies you tell yourself. Do not hide behind the masks any longer. Revel in the love and adoration the Father has for you and bask in His goodness.

He is good. He is faithful. He loves you.

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. – 1 Cor. 13:12

 

 

 

Affair of Emotions

I find it interesting that people ask for what they want, receive it, and then look to other things almost immediately as if what they finally have is not enough.  This poem is a reflection upon that phenomenon.  Culture tells us the grass is greener in other homes, schools, cities, and towns, but perhaps the grass is green everywhere.  We are only viewing it through dirty brown lenses. – C.P.H.

Logic races toward oblivion,

In a little black dress and heels.

Whispering words of love in your ear.

 

Reason waits in the house,

In yesterday’s shirt.

Wanting very badly to be held.

 

Passion consumes only in secret places,

Clad in lace and silk.

Tempting the beast that slumbers within.

 

Love lingers in the mundane,

Wrapped in a soft blanket.

Surrounding you with the smell of her.

 

Anger sits at the door,

In a black suit and tie.

Shouting obscenities at the lawn.

 

Bitterness creeps along the baseboards,

Swathed in ill-fitting jeans.

Choking down your advances in favor of sleep.

 

Indifference blindly maneuvers without care,

In dirty shorts.

Oblivious to the outside world.

 

Sadness drapes upon your shoulders.

In a warm, heavy coat,

Reminding you of love lost.

 

Excitement swells among the forbidden,

In dresses that reveal too much.

Promising dreams they can never fulfill.

 

Happiness glows in the unexpected,

With messy hair and a baggy T-shirt.

Saying be content with what you have.

I Must Confess….

There is something I must get off my chest. I cannot deal with the guilt any longer. The truth must be spoken!

….. I am not a lumberjack. There I said it! I can now breathe freely and stop feeling paranoid wondering if the lumberjack police are going to come beat me up and string me in a tree. (I don’t really believe there is a lumberjack police, but I have been wrong before…. Lets hope I’m right on this one). But there is some truth to my claim of being a lumberjack.

I work at a builder’s supply (Come to Curtis Supply,  Come to Curtis Supply. We’re helping you build your dreams! Note: Please sing like you are the world’s greatest opera singer to get the full effect). I handle copious amounts of lumber everyday. I wear flannel most of my waking hours and I have a beard. So in essence I am a lumberjack, just not your typical go out into the forest and cut trees down kind, but a lumberjack all the same… I do believe they would accept me into their brotherhood.

I feel better about myself now, even if whoever reads this is just more confused, I can now rest easy knowing I am still a lumberjack