Life: unmasked.

It’s easy to cover up your face and hide. To show the world what they want to see, what you want them to see. We take days in stride, smiling as we greet people along the way, passing with polite pleasantries. It’s hard to let people see you, me…life without the protective barrier.

The first poem I memorized (aside from Roses are Red) was Paul Laurence Dunbar’s “We Wear the Mask.” Though not a slave, I identified with his words. I would recite it to myself over and over as I continually held my own mask with tired hands.

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

There’s pride in wearing a mask. I know it and you know it too.

To say that we’re independent. We’re fine. We don’t need fixing. We don’t need help.

But isn’t that the greatest lie of all? This life meant to live in community, meant to be rooted and dug deep into the Vine, doesn’t need help? We need grace and breath and freedom all found in Him who wore no mask, but gave of himself fully and freely.

I hope you’ll join in with the community Joy is building with Life: Unmasked.

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Sometimes I worry about what I write on here. Whether you’ll like it or not, whether I’m being real enough, whether it even matters. Sometimes that people pleasing tendency takes control and wallows back and forth between decisions and words asking, “Is this what they want?” Instead of just writing as I feel lead and what I’m passionate about.

Oh, and remember how I’m working on this eBook to {find your voice}? Do you remember how I said it’d be ready to launch Monday, September 12th? And how it’s now Wednesday, September 14th? Umm…yeah.

I’m feeling silly and embarrassed that I didn’t finish it. Not only did I not finish it, but I’ve barely worked on it. We were down to one computer for 2 weeks and Otto’s been up 2-3 (even 4!) times a night lately, which neither bode well for early morning or late night writing. But the real reason?

I’m scared. I’m afraid it won’t be good enough, that it won’t do any good…people will think it’s stupid and that it’s of no help at all.

Once again I’ve let fear stop me by way of excuses. I haven’t said anything, even though I knew I wouldn’t have it done, because it’d be so much easier to just put back on that mask that says, “I’ve got everything under control. It’s alright. I know what I’m doing.”

I don’t. But I’m still writing.

{Also, sometimes my hair only gets washed once a week. True story. Thank God for the curly bun.}