One of my son's favorite things to do when I tell him to take out the trash is to take the bag out of the can, tie it shut, and walk it all the way to just outside the front door where he sets it on the ground, leaning up against the house, to await some magical future time when someone (else) will happen to be walking by and take it the rest of the way to the bins. I don't know why he does this. He knows that as soon as I see it I'm going to yell, errr "encourage", him to bring it the rest of the way, and he'll have to come back down from his room and do it right. This has been going on for years. He's too big and fast to spank, I just end up chasing him around until I pull a muscle.
I walked by the front door this morning after yelling, err "sternly requesting" that the kids do their chores without me telling them to (paradoxical, I know) and there were the two bags of trash from the kitchen leaning up against the house just outside the door...I'd like to say I didn't lose my ever-loving mind but perhaps that is a topic for another post. The picture of the smelly and gross bags of trash halfway to their destination did catch my attention for another reason too-it reminded me of a conversation from a week earlier.
Maybe "conversation" isn't the right word. I recently sat down with a woman who was looking for some direction. What she really needed was to take out some trash. We know one another kinda. Which is to say we took a couple college classes together. We met in the backroom of a coffee shop and exchanged pleasantries for a while, she seemed happy, confident, normal. A plump, lengthy, awkward silence descended, and then she started to sob and it all started to tumble out.
A child in jail.
A husband addicted to opioids.
Another child unable to keep a job.
Divorce.
Secrets.
Fear of people finding out about secrets. The full-time job of keeping secrets covered up.
And I was just so heartbroken for her. Heartbroken, of course, for all of the BIG and HEAVY things she was trying to carry around on her shoulders--but heartbroken even more that she felt she had to carry all of those things in silence, by herself. Heartbroken because she honestly believed that her family's secrets were darker, uglier, and grosser than anyone else's. And there are SO many people walking around, carrying the same weight, and believing the same things about their secrets.
I'm not trying to minimize the giants she faces, in fact I'm empathizing with the size of those giants! But we were not created to keep secrets. In fact, our secrets make and keep us sick. It's like storing up garbage in our kitchen and, instead of taking it out, frantically spraying Febreze or moving the bags from one room to another, covering them with pretty 400-count Egyptian sheets. We need to take our trash OUT. We need to get our secrets OUT and into the light.
In all of the times I've met with people over the last couple of years one thing has been overwhelmingly clear. We are all dealing with the same stuff--BIG and HEAVY stuff, and we are all trying to hide the same big and heavy stuff from one another. Social Media doesn't help, and I'm not at all advocating for everyone to hang their dirty laundry on Instagram. Just find one person, one person you can trust, and get a cup of coffee. BE the person for someone else-the one they can tell anything to and get prayer. I know some incredible therapists if you don't have even one person you feel you can share your secrets with, I've got names and numbers!
After she poured her heart out and we prayed and cried together I'll bet you can guess what she said? "I don't know why I waited this long to talk to somebody."
You can't scare God with your life, He knows all about it anyway! I love the words of Zach Williams' song To The Table:
But you keep standing at a distanceIn the shadow of your shameThere's a light of hope that's shiningWon't you come and take your place
And bring it all to the tableThere's nothing He ain't seen beforeFor all your fear, all your sorrow and your sadnessThere's a Savior and He callsBring it all to the table
I love you, we are all in this together,
Briana
I walked by the front door this morning after yelling, err "sternly requesting" that the kids do their chores without me telling them to (paradoxical, I know) and there were the two bags of trash from the kitchen leaning up against the house just outside the door...I'd like to say I didn't lose my ever-loving mind but perhaps that is a topic for another post. The picture of the smelly and gross bags of trash halfway to their destination did catch my attention for another reason too-it reminded me of a conversation from a week earlier.
Maybe "conversation" isn't the right word. I recently sat down with a woman who was looking for some direction. What she really needed was to take out some trash. We know one another kinda. Which is to say we took a couple college classes together. We met in the backroom of a coffee shop and exchanged pleasantries for a while, she seemed happy, confident, normal. A plump, lengthy, awkward silence descended, and then she started to sob and it all started to tumble out.
A child in jail.
A husband addicted to opioids.
Another child unable to keep a job.
Divorce.
Secrets.
Fear of people finding out about secrets. The full-time job of keeping secrets covered up.
And I was just so heartbroken for her. Heartbroken, of course, for all of the BIG and HEAVY things she was trying to carry around on her shoulders--but heartbroken even more that she felt she had to carry all of those things in silence, by herself. Heartbroken because she honestly believed that her family's secrets were darker, uglier, and grosser than anyone else's. And there are SO many people walking around, carrying the same weight, and believing the same things about their secrets.
I'm not trying to minimize the giants she faces, in fact I'm empathizing with the size of those giants! But we were not created to keep secrets. In fact, our secrets make and keep us sick. It's like storing up garbage in our kitchen and, instead of taking it out, frantically spraying Febreze or moving the bags from one room to another, covering them with pretty 400-count Egyptian sheets. We need to take our trash OUT. We need to get our secrets OUT and into the light.
1 John 1:9 says when we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us. But James 5:16 also says to confess your sins to one another to be healed.
In all of the times I've met with people over the last couple of years one thing has been overwhelmingly clear. We are all dealing with the same stuff--BIG and HEAVY stuff, and we are all trying to hide the same big and heavy stuff from one another. Social Media doesn't help, and I'm not at all advocating for everyone to hang their dirty laundry on Instagram. Just find one person, one person you can trust, and get a cup of coffee. BE the person for someone else-the one they can tell anything to and get prayer. I know some incredible therapists if you don't have even one person you feel you can share your secrets with, I've got names and numbers!
After she poured her heart out and we prayed and cried together I'll bet you can guess what she said? "I don't know why I waited this long to talk to somebody."
You can't scare God with your life, He knows all about it anyway! I love the words of Zach Williams' song To The Table:
Hear the voice of love that's callingThere's a chair that waits for youAnd a Friend who understandsEverything you're going through
But you keep standing at a distanceIn the shadow of your shameThere's a light of hope that's shiningWon't you come and take your place
And bring it all to the tableThere's nothing He ain't seen beforeFor all your fear, all your sorrow and your sadnessThere's a Savior and He callsBring it all to the table
I love you, we are all in this together,
Briana
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