Chronicles Of A Stay At Home Mom: being honest being real
by Mommy Hobbies
In my napsack stash
I’ve been asking myself this, lately.
It’s a pretty important question. How far does the Jesus in me go?? Am I a Christian as long as the lights are on me, as long as people can see what I’m doing? Or, am I a Christian even when no one is looking?
As a kid, I had this dreadful fear of trouble. You were hard pressed to catch me doing naughty things, because I was so afraid of the consequences. Now, I didn’t have any qualms about spouting off at the mouth to show my anger, but I would never, ever do spiteful things or nasty things to hurt others. Maybe once or twice, but it wasn’t my m.o and I wasn’t very good at it, so I stuck to being mouthy. (oh, the spankings I got as a child for my mouth) hah.
Unfortunately, my inability to willingly hurt others just to see them cry, got me hurt. I never knew how to fight back to the passive aggressive mean girls. You know the kind, the ones who are so pretty and innocent looking, in the popular crowd, say, “Hi!” to your face and then when no one is looking, do and say awful things that no one would believe if you told them. I remember one time when I was about 19 I got stuck in a car on a four hour drive with a couple of mean girls. They teased, badgered and annoyed me until I was near tears. I just couldn’t understand their mentality. Why? Why do people want to hurt others for the sport of it?
I secretly hoped someone would hurt them and make them pay for their nastiness to me and to the other girls I’d seen them torture. Who knows, maybe they did get their payday, but I never saw it. And I surely couldn’t give them a taste of their own medicine. I felt so helpless sometimes. One of my only defenses was to steer clear and make good friends. Me and my Sandlot group of friends, the fun we had…
Oh, then, adulthood. Oh…adulthood. *deep sigh* You’d think the mean girl days would be far gone. HAH. Why am I so stinking naive?? The mean girl in some people never dies, they refine it, perfect their method and God save your soul should you cross one.
But back to being real. The beauty of being real is that you can’t ever be called a fake. Ever. There are times in life where making the decision to end a friendship is in order, end a relationship, or finally come to terms with a situation, being honest is always best. It’s not the easiest, but it’s the best and in the end it works in your favor…being honest. But unfortunately, it’s a two edged sword. If I could share the times my honesty has saved my skin….(along with the times it’s burned me because people refused to believe but I’d rather be honest. I sleep better at night)
You can thank my dad. He’s honest to a fault *sigh*. He pounded into me that honesty was always the route to go, no matter if it made you hurt, unpopular, lonely…it didn’t matter. Thank you, dad.
Being real in the dark is much easier now. I’ve come through many trials where being real has hurt me so badly but my conscience was not seared, it was strengthened. My desire is to have the Jesus in me present and accounted for even in the most unjust situations. I pray that I don’t forget who I am as a Christ follower when others disappoint me and decide to treat them poorly when no one is looking, and to save face, treat them with kindness when the world is looking. Shame on my soul if I ever do.
The Jesus in me isn’t a cape I put on and take off when I’m sick of it. It’s what I’m made of, it’s the fabric who makes me who I am.
So, how far does the Jesus in me go? It is my life’s blood…that’s how far. It’s how I live…that’s how deep. I have failed, time and time again to truly show the love of Christ to those who have hurt me but I never stop trying to love.
It’s the least I can do for the one who saved my soul by giving his life.