My Life in a Glass House

Okay, okay I don't actually live in a glass house.

Let me restate: I have felt this week like I am living in a glass house. 

That's better.

The exterior of our home is being painted and there is all manner of extension ladders, 5-gallon paint buckets and painters dressed in white roaming about. This was a choice. Planned. They did not show up unannounced.

What I forgot is that most of the windows in our house have no window coverings. Zero. None. Completely bare.

So, when I say I have been living in a glass house this is no exaggeration. And when I say that I can now relate to the boy in the bubble this too is truth. Every room I go into there is a nice painter looking through the pane at me.

Friendly? Yes.

Awkward? Absolutely.

I'm happy about what they are doing but I do wish I had a curtain to close. A blind to pull. A shutter to well, shutter.

This experience got me thinking about transparency. How revealing it is. Vulnerable it can be. 

What if people had a peek inside me? What if I had little windows without curtains? What if there was a clear view to my heart? A shining light on my thoughts? An open hatch to my attitudes.

That would not be good. 

I'm grateful that only God with his grace has that view.

But it did make me think about how things can look one way on the outside and be completely different on the inside.

Those painters got a good view of our "inside" house while making the outside look better.

What about me? Do I gussy up my outside? Pretend that I'm kinder? More thoughtful? More sincere than I really am? Am I an imposter?

I know there will always be a private me and that some things are best left tucked inside. 

But what I'm trying to ask myself is, am I living in a consistent way overall? Does my inside and outside match? Or is there a gauzy film filtering out the parts that I do not want to be seen.

Hmmmm......

This is good to reflect upon. To think about. To consider.

If I say I want to live authentically and am working to be more genuine. How does that look? Is it even possible? 

It starts with being real. And real is not perfect. Real does not pretend to be perfect. Real doesn't fist-bump perfect as if they're good buds. Because they're not. Real is the opposite of perfect.

So I better buck up if I'm going to work on being more cohesive. More consistent. More genuine. More real.

Because, guess what? It's challenging to have your inside and outside match up. Seen and unseen. To be true. Known. Wholehearted.

And I'd be fooling no one if I said I won't have to work hard to rein in perfectionism. It can be insidious and sneaky.

My hope is that eventually if you chance to look through my window I'll be able to glance up, smile and wave back. True. Authentic. Me.

I have faith that you can do the same.

Oh, and one more thing....to avoid this whole glass house situation, please remind me to put up curtains before I hire painters again.