closet compassionate

(April 11th, 2007)

Easter :: The day that represents new life.

“When I respect the image of God in others, I protect the image of God in me. When Jesus speaks of loving our neighbor, it isn’t just for our neighbor’s sake. If we don’t love our neighbor, something happens to us.” Rob Bell (from latest book Sex God)

One year ago this Easter, I decided that I would no longer participate in objectifying myself or another human being out of the lustful notion that they would actually fill some void for acceptance or power in my life.

Because God is for purpose and beauty and meaning.

And I want my life, my story to have purpose and beauty and meaning.

In this year I have laughed more, embarked on adventures previously unimaginable, met extraordinary people, asked some insanely difficult questions, ached for a humanity I was unfamiliar with and have become more intentional about the way I live my life than ever before.

In the process of coming into my own, I found that (a year and thousands of conversations later) I’m still trying to convince people that not everything is as it seems [prooving to others that there’s more to me and to the world than what meets the eye]. It’s exhausting and I’m often misunderstood. And I’m thinking it is because I’ve misunderstood myself and the power of being fully committed.

In this moment I’m experiencing a disconnect. I’m mildly obsessed with my job as a marketer/creative/developer/strategist/conversationalist. I can see my talents being played out and a big vision coming together as this business woman that I find so much joy in being. And I’m also seeing how it will eventually put me in a place where I can create environments that charge into hell and bring heaven with them. I can see this ‘new humanity’ that Christ spoke of arising from the collaboration of revolutionaries that come out of this place in my mind. I catch glimpses of the woman I will be in that moment and wonder why I can’t be her now. In this place.

And then I realize something unnerving. The woman I see is comfortable in her own skin. She isn’t trying to prove anything. She loves people where they are. She’s confident that who she is isn’t determined by the amount of work that is done by her hands, but by the hope in the eyes of those around her. She isn’t running from anything or anyone. That woman has entered into a state of mind where we are all humans, in this together and not much different from each other.

She’s me turned inside out.

Those who know me deep, deep, deep down at my core (yes, Luke, that’s 3 deeps) can see her too. My friend Kali describes me as a closet compassionate, which made me smile. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks that I can name the number of people I’ve allowed see me in a complete state of brokenness or vulnerability. They’ve seen what it looks like in the moment when I’m awakened by the possibility that dwells in them in the midst of their hell. And it’s in these moments that I am reminded that I have what the world needs. It doesn’t need me to be so busy that I don’t have time for a cup of coffee, nor does it need me to be so guarded that I maneuver as any robot could. The world needs to be connected. To belong. To be filled with a hope that life is so much more than what meets the eye. It doesn’t need me to compromise my bold personality or ambitious behavior, but it needs me to be approachable. It needs to know I’m available and that I actually do care about more than business plans and awesome marketing strategies.

So this year … I’m coming out of the closet, so to speak. Hold me to it.