Heart Attitude

I am blessed.

I take a look at my life and my heart is thankful.

I have so much.  I grew up with two godly parents who loved each other, modeled a righteous life and provided for my every need.  I had the world at my disposal. I don't know what would have been like to live in poverty, to help parents with rent, to come home from school to an empty house, to not be given a hug at least several times a day.

Yet I complain.  I grumble.  I want more.  I take my comfort for granted.  And though it's hard to say, I find myself judging those who are different then me. A bit prideful, much?  Seeing as though I did nothing to earn any of the above mentioned luxuries.

Jesus, change my heart. 

The last six months have been a journey for me.  A bit painful at times.  Because I've always considered myself loving, understanding, kind and open-minded.  But I was wrong.  Not entirely, but I don't want to stop my heart at "good enough" when it comes to loving people and seeing them as Jesus does.

Everyone has a story.
And it's a beautiful story.

Jesus, open my heart.

I have been praying for practical ways to live differently; to actually enact heart change.  Because for me, it's easy to love people and not seek to understand them.

And Jesus has given me two ways to do this.  Two ways to begin this journey of opening my heart to a new life of love and understanding.  Here they are;

Be a life-long learner.

Seek to be uncomfortable.

I also just want to say, I love this little space.  I writing real.  Writing from my heart.
May Jesus be lifted up and my own heart brought low.

Real Moment

I was encouraged and revived.  Eager to continue the day.  Excited to live my Saturday.

I walked through the doors to my job, pulled off my scarf (cuz it wasn't black), grabbed my gear and headed down to check the deck.

A slight irritation with a coworker, some selfish thoughts and attitudes; just like that my glad heart gave way to resentment, and frustration.  Just one hour from rejoicing in the daily, I was now wanting to shut down and just leave.

I knew something needed to change.  So I crept behind a large set piece, knelt down with my head on my knees and did the only thing I knew to do - talk to my Jesus.

Tears fell, of course.  I unburdened my heart to the One who knew my thoughts already.  I didn't speak thanksgiving, I mumbled and complained.  But I wasn't pretending.  Not anymore. I felt alone.  My close friends on deck, the ones who speak truth and life into my soul, they weren't there anymore.  I was discouraged and I poured this out into my Jesus' ear.

These moments alone, these seconds of realness, I think these are the ones that Jesus longs to be a part of, because they are the real me, the genuine me.  But He doesn't want me to stay there.  I can't be ok with just wallowing in my hard moments.  He's calling me up and out.

So I took a deep breath.  And then another one.  I texted my friend to pray.  I tried to think of a couple things to be grateful for, and found out there were many to speak out loud.  Because if I'm willing to complain verbally, I better be able to give thanks in the same way.

I didn't have a magical transformation.  I had to swallow my pride and have a difficult conversation with the coworker who hurt my feelings, but it was more my fault then his. I had to work three shows while feeling tired and alone.

But Jesus was with me.  His strength was sufficient.  He is who He says He is - praise Jesus for the gospel.  Praise Him that He works through and in my weakness.

The end of my day was much different than the beginning, thanks to the grace of Jesus.

Behind the Curtain

The stage left wing was dark, only the glow of blue work light allowed us to see each others faces.  The house was full and anticipation was high.  Soon, very soon the curtain would fly and the audience would be taken several thousand years back to when Jesus walked this earth.

Bright costumes, stunning sets, awesome effects and mind-blowing technology. Lively music sung by beautiful actors, real truth-scripted scenes performed by our cast; it was all about to go down for a little over 2,000 people.

I took a deep breath and looked around me. 20+ technicians milled about, some in circles talking, others seated on preset scenery, each with a headset and belt pack - the only way we could communicate as we shifted scenes and prepped the wings. Instead of colorful costumes we wore black, to blend in and not be seen.

Then I looked deeper.  We were tired, exhausted.  Two technicians were wearing stabilizing boots after sustaining injuries during the show run last year.  They were both hard working folks that had to take a step back and only do jobs that required little to no physical effort.

We pushed and pulled sets, plugged towers, ensured technology ran smoothly; operated sets and equipment that had potential to be very dangerous if not handled appropriately. We had grown accustomed to our work.  And we were tired.

While the guests were entranced with the lights and story, there was another script, another show unfolding backstage.  And this show was vastly different then the one performed out front.  And for theater that might be ok, but in life - let it not be so.

It often appears that people have it all together.  And let's be real, I like to look like I have it all together.  But the truth is, if you step past the exterior, past the happy smiles and filtered posts, you'll often find a heart that's hurting, a soul that is desperately in need of truth, a mind that is crowded with thoughts, longing for peace.

Why must we hide the hard parts?  Why do we dress up the outside as if everything is ok on the inside? What if we flipped the stage, gave a backstage tour, opened up our lives and hearts?

I can only answer this question in my own heart.  And the answer is hard to type.  But I'm afraid.  Afraid that people will see the 'real me' and move on.  Scared that I'll be defined by my brokenness. Terrified that I'll disappoint, that they won't love me, the real me.  Cautious that if others see my sin, my hurt and my mess, it will seem that God isn't real and that He isn't the powerful God I declare Him to be.

Nothing could be further from the truth.
I am broken.  I am a mess. Praise Jesus for the gospel. I don't revel in my failure, but I do exalt in His grace and wholeness.
(more on this later) 

So I ask myself, and anyone who reads this.
What if we gave a backstage tour, opened our lives and hearts and let people inside?
What if we choose to take a deeper look?  If we peered behind the curtain of the lives around us.
What if we stopped to listen, to learn and to care?

Would people be more likely to fly the curtain if the reaction was one of love?  If they knew that your backstage space was just as messy as theirs?

The outside may beautiful - but may it only be a reflection of what's inside.