Honesty.

Just be honest.

When trying to think about what to write for this blog, those three words came to mind over and over again, just be honest. I have found that when starting to blog and put my thoughts, musing and feelings ambiguously out here into cyber space, I have a hard time knowing exactly who I am writing for. I know some friends and family who read, but other than that, who?

Well, if being honest is the now the theme, that it is clear whom I am writing for: myself. I believe that all I can offer and all I can give in any cause or to anyone is simply my honesty. I believe that it is through transparent, open, communal living that God speaks sometime most profoundly. It is also through lives lived that God speaks most profoundly. I will say with confidence that people look to one another’s lives first and their words second. This is not new to anyone though, right?

Being honest, I have been humbled. You see, I want God to use me. I want to be, as Mother Teresa put it, a pencil in His hands. I have always felt such a clear sense of purpose and direction but have so often failed to live into it. To be honest, yet again, I have been fearful of living into what I have felt my purpose to be. I have avoided, for so long, the truth. To be specific, I know that I am no one through whom God should chose to speak. I am sinful, weak, cowardly, dishonest and lazy. I have a knack for procrastination and for trying to use the correct words and actions to make myself look good. However, as I have proven to God, my closest friends and, most importantly, myself, that is empty and very shallow, false way of living. I may have a sense of call, yes. And I may even be able to clearly articulate my purpose and giftings, yes again. However, the very basic, authentic, deep stages are the ones I have yet to go through entirely. I guess I have just been scared that perhaps, in the process of being vulnerable and truly allowing God to form His characteristics and principles in me, I will find that my idea of my purpose and calling (which I can see so clearly and articulate so well now) are not actually what will come to be…or what God has for me. Fear, yes I do believe, is what holds me captive.

Thus far, living at 5128 N Kimball has taught me that I can float by oh so easily, as I have nearly my entire life, without being pushed and without needing to articulate the just plain honesty within my heart. Why? Because I am able to word and articulate everything perfectly and I am, by nature, a leader. However, to be honest, I feel empty. I want to be touched, not untouchable and above everyone. I want to be known, I want to be vulnerable, I want to be real. I want what I dream and what I hope and what I thought I knew for so long to become a reality. In order for this to happen, I must be honest.

It will never matter if I have all the correct words and can lead others into the correct ideas and matching activities while making it all look so wonderful if my life, if my soul, cannot be seen. I want the actual power of God to be in me, and I know that until I allow Him every part of me, even the parts I think no one will ever see (the unglamorous, nameless parts), the outside, the end product, if you will, will never be whole. It, me, my life, will never actually be. I will have been a great idea that was never put into action.

So, I want to just be honest.

Honestly, I am scared shitless. And I think this is going to be damn hard. Honestly, I feel like this is all basic conversion stuff that I never had the balls to do. So, there. How’s that for a good attitude?

As I write all this, I do know that life is about becoming someone of consequence, not doing things of consequence. And I know that in the beautiful order that God does things, through simply pursuing Him, I will become and out of that being, doing will happen. I know. However, I do not want to be passive about it. Living in this house has opened my eyes to the simple truths I have written about, talked about, and even preached out that I am failing to live out. I am failing to live them out because I have failed to allow God to mold me into being them. What truths am I speaking of, saying that I have been so convicted of before? Here’s one: loving my neighbor more than I love myself. Not judging before looking at myself. Becoming the least before seeking to be the greatest. Not to mention being truly convinced that Jesus lives in each of His followers and that God’s love is enough to perpetuate justice and healing for everyone.

I have never become a doer of these things because I have never become a believer, a be-er, of these things. And this has been made painfully clear in my judgment of my roommates, my impatience, my unwillingness to serve and my seeking my own advancement and gain before pursuing the best for others. I breeze in, offer words of encouragement and share a meal, talking about things which I am familiar and can add something intelligent, go to bed, wake up and do it all again.

And no one would ever stop me. No one would ever know. I am not expecting anyone to know or to be the one to have to prod and push me, as it is a choice we all make to allow others in. I am merely confessing how I have set myself up for emptiness in community.

I am no better than anyone else, and I need help. I am broken and have more sin in me than anyone I know. I am scared to not have it all together though. I am scared of being real. I am scared of letting people in, because, in order to let someone else in, I myself will need to acknowledge and come to terms with both who I am and who I am not. Perhaps closing myself off so has saved me from needing to deal with who I am and my own unhappiness with myself. Perhaps allowing air and light into my soul will allow God to transform me into a true woman. Into a be-er. Into someone whose life speaks.

So, here’s to the nitty-gritty. To not coasting through. To wholeness. To being scared shitless and excited. To fully living. To fresh air. To being honest with my roommates. To confessing this all to them. To confessing my sin in the moment when I am choosing words over being, when I am choosing appearance over being – not matter how scared I am. To allowing myself to be humble, real, messy, no better, wiser or figured out than anyone. To actual authenticity, not just the word. To being.

To being honest.

-K