I thoroughly enjoy a well-manicured lawn. It makes my heart happy. Taking off my shoes and walking on this plush landscape almost feels holy. It’s highly therapeutic, too. There are studies that even suggest health benefits such as better immunity, increased antioxidants, and improved sleep. Sign me up for all of those please. So I prioritize accordingly. Several other acres of our property do NOT look like this. But this will remain at the top of my list.
All of this may seem strange or silly to some. (My husband would be in that group.) And today, while riding the mower over my tiny slice of heaven, even I stopped to consider a few things.
I have the honor and privilege of working with some of the finest human beings ever. Most days, at least one of those fine people will enter my office to sit and look out the window while attempting to put words to their struggles. I mainly just listen; hoping to reassure that they aren’t the Lone Ranger on this open prairie of bandits. There are also days that I hear from women in Bible studies with similar struggles. For the most part, we spend endless energy trying to show off our manicured lawns when a closer look would reveal yucky things such as: mole trails, rogue dandelions, or even a pile of poop from the dogs or cats. For those of you who are tired and missed what I meant, let me just say it. We get too worried about what our life “should” look like and what the sorority ladies are going to say. We’re afraid of being honest and admitting our wrongs. We practically kill ourselves trying to maintain the picture of perfection all while our friends are behind closed doors crying in the bathtub. What are we doing?
The Bible speaks repeatedly about humility, servanthood, and self-sacrifice. To follow the model of Jesus’ life is to practice these things. Instead, we tend to let pride get in the way. I’ve certainly been guilty of doing that. When I could’ve been vulnerable so that someone else didn’t feel alone; instead I chose silence. I might have offered some cliche. But that wasn’t what was needed. We need to know we aren’t alone in our fears, struggles, and tears.
Why are we content to have superficial relationships that ask questions like, “How was vacation?” Maybe it’s, “Did you get Izzy signed up for travel league?” Or my personal favorite, the ever popular, “How are you?” I’m guessing that one time out of ten we genuinely want to know the answer to that question. But for the most part, it’s almost a default setting that is triggered by the mere appearance of another person in close proximity to us.
Did you know that sitting down with someone on a porch can be dangerous? You run the risk of exposing that pesky dandelion (aka, you drink too many glasses of wine each night). It could suddenly draw attention to the mole that’s destroying your new landscaping (aka, your middle child just got expelled from school). But the worst would have to be the big pile of poop that just got stepped in and tracked through the house (aka, your husband is having an affair and you were the last one to find out). It would be so much easier to drive by. You might even add a wave for good measure. But exposing everything? No thank you. There are plenty of other people out there who can step up. Except they don’t. And your friend is still crying in the bathtub. Because she feels guilty about the bottle of wine she drank last night while the kids were watching a movie and doing homework.
For those of you joining this party late, I’ll give you a quick catch up. I’ve lied, cheated, stolen, manipulated, and abused. I’ve been mean and hurtful. There have been foul words come from my lips on too many days to count. (As recently as today. There. I said it.) I’ve also been the victim of someone else’s less than ideal choices. I’ve been hurt by those I loved. I don’t think I need to continue. The point is this: None of us are immune. We all have something hidden in our yard. Maybe it’s just a seemingly insignificant thing we aren’t proud of. Whatever it is, talk about it. To somebody. We don’t grow and others miss out, too, when we don’t invest in each other. We’d rather stay busy running our kids around or getting on that next committee with Beth. (And we all know Beth is just as jacked up as you and I.)
My lawn looks pretty nice from a distance. But if you come sit on my porch, you’re bound to discover my flaws. And that’s okay. Because that’s why God told me to write.
Revelation 12:11 ~ And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.