Get Real

Silence is so loud sometimes. The need to scream presses in, but I am unable to break the trance in which I find myself. I am walking and smiling and waving at people I know, and people walk and smile and wave back. They think they know me. If they could look into the window of my soul, they would run when they saw the turbulent thoughts and raging temptations lying beneath my surface. Knowing when to respond and the time to utter the right answers is second nature. I deserve an Oscar for my daily performance. Afraid to share the real me, I learned to act the way they wanted. They directed my performance, without ever knowing I was performing the part that they wanted me to play. People want to observe the smile and ignore the pain. Glimpse the twinkle, but overlook the tear. Hear the laugh, but hush the cry. So, that is what I give them: the me they want to see, not the me that’s me.

But, You, I have discovered, You are different. Even if I smile, you observe the pain. If you see the twinkle, You know it is a tear about to fall. You not only want to hear me laugh, but You want to listen to my cries. Embracing my uncontrolled emotions, You delight in my weakness, and become my strength. No one in the world embraces weakness, but You. You know the unlovely parts of me, and yet You still love me. There is no need for formalities, just the realization that You love me for me. For a long time, I thought if I found somebody who knew everything about me, they would run the other way. You ran all right—straight for me, arms open wide. It is only in looking through Your eyes that I discover the beauty within me. That beauty is You. When the windows of my soul have You looking out, that inner glow draws people. That is when I am seen as a beautiful woman created in Your image, because I know that You make all things beautiful, and that includes me.

People don’t want to know the real, they want the performance. You, however, want the real, and not the performance. That being said, I am getting real. This is the real me. The girl who covets, cheats, slanders, lusts, and lies. But this same girl begs your forgiveness, for falling short of Your glory. This girl wants You to shed Your illuminating light in my darkness. No more pretending with You—because it’s pointless, and no more pretending with other’s—because now I know. Those people walking, smiling, and waving are also performing. They are locked into that infinite, deafening silence. Live within me. When I open myself up to others, I want them to see You shining through. Help me to show them what’s real: You.

By Michelle Rocker

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