every real thing

c.s. lewis once said "so many things -- nay every real thing -- is good if only it will be humble and ordinate."

when i am striving to be as real as possible...as vulnerable and organic as i possibly can...it is my persistent pride that always makes me so very un-real to those in my life that i love dearly.

this morning i read in proverbs that "a happy heart makes the face cheerful, but heartache crushes the spirit" (15.13), perhaps it is my series of unfortunate romantic encounters that makes me so fearful, but more likely it is simply my hurt pride that drives me to remove myself from any sort of true, raw exposure. am i making any sense or just rambling? i'm not sure...but i digress...i have so much to sort through (i suppose we all do) in my heart as i deal with unspoken ache, anger and hurt.

...my tumultuous spirit continues to wander and my soul is grieved...

my crushed spirit seems to have given up within me. my will to define myself, to be passionate about who and what i am, seems secondary to the sole survival of my heart. in my vain efforts to protect my heart from the barrage of emotional attcks that i have suffered i drive myself further away from the only source of healing i will ever find.

how sweetly contradictory that love can so severly cut our hearts to the core, and yet it is the only thing that can heal the very wound it inflicted.

yesterday a trusted friend of mine was painfully honest with me about my self-conscious and overly introspective tendencies. i am so driven to my own secrecy and privacy for fear of losing the last strand of dignity to which i cling so tightly. the thought of outside criticism concerning the innermost thoughts of my heart makes my chest constrict and my stomach turn in knots.

it is my crazy thought that i even have a strand of dignity worth clinging to that causes every occassion of dissappointment to haunt me, every dissapproving look to wreak havoc on my spirit and devastatingly crush me.

ironically, the more fiercly i strive to protect myself from this onslaught of emotion the more i find myself encountering the very dissappointment and dissapproval i have been striving to evade.

we are creatures of pride and dignity...suffering from the weight of glory which rests on each of our souls as creation made in the image of God...and in our sinful perversion this inescapeable burden turns our eyes inward and we begin to believe our merit and value, our reason for being found worthy, will come from within. and so, when it comes to pride i know i am the very worst...living for nothing more than affirmation and praise...consent from outsiders that i am living well...of course how could that be possible if they were familiar with the feeble and bizarre inner workings of my heart?

and so i am grateful to lewis for his perception and insight.

for if i am truly to partake in reality, then i must slay every last strand of my imagined dignity and live what is really real...being completely humble and ordinate...
trusting that it is in the humble and ordinary things that we discover the truly beautiful wonder of being a creation made in the image of God Himself.