It's a cold, rainy Monday, yet my spirits are inexplicably high, "against all hope, believing in hope." And I can't stop listening to this exuberant anthem. It has been stuck in my head all weekend.
The Lord's Day was a great refreshment and encouragement to me spiritually. I spent Sunday afternoon in the kitchen, preparing for the evening college dinner a casserole and the pumpkin muffins that invariably disappear almost as soon as I set them out on the food tables. I sat down to join some of the others that had brought food for the young people. In the ensuing conversation, I observed in myself the phenomenon that occurs perhaps too frequently -- that of showing others only a part of who I am. With some professional colleagues I hide my quiet, simple, domestic bent. With certain friends I attempt to dismiss my doctorate and career track altogether. And with others, I inadvertently put on a super-cheery act to try to win them over. Which is the real me? Why do I wish myself to be younger when with some people, and attempt to be more mature with others? Even with my own immediate family, I don't bare my heart and soul. I feel like only the Lord can really know and accept me for who I am. But I think this is a fault I need to correct. My fear of being vulnerable must be replaced by a love for others. My chameleon-like behavior reveals the tendency I have to think too often and too much of myself. And that is, simply put, pride. I must take the words of C. S. Lewis to heart: "True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less."Sweetheart, you'll have to be patient with me. It may take me a while to truly be open with you about who I am deep down. These letters are a good exercise for me in the meantime.
Waiting for you,
Me
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