Without Walls

Niece commented that I have a common theme in my conversations with her - the over whelming desire to live without walls, to be authentic, to be me.  In front of her, in front of my family, eventually in front of the world.

The only problem is: I see myself as being less the human when I am myself, because there are no emotions.  None.
Though Niece believes me more human, because I am willing to be vulnerable.  Sans emotion of course.

It took me to age 12 figure out that no one liked me as I was, in fact I mostly got beaten.  This was daily by the other children at school and the teachers were not much better.  But, I had observed many a Marx and Three Stooges movie and knew that what draws laughter - draws friendship.  And thus Kris, the clown was born, he could make everyone laugh, he was the life of the party, yet he was completely dead on the inside and dying a bit more with each joke.

My only girl friend in high school knew the real me.  It fascinated her no end at how I could switch literally in mid-word from me to the clown if someone came near.  Not that I care if strangers saw the real me, it is the learned pain of strangers beating the @$%*&^ out of me as a child because I was not normal.  "Ah, a clown, he can live....", as they pass by. It was probably why I stayed with my girl friend for so long, she was safe and she did "love" me, at least until I went to college.

I never dropped my guard again until I met Gaelic Girl many years later.  Up until her my girl friends all had the similar complaint, Kris is not serious enough!  But, I already knew if I showed myself, whom I really was, it would only be over sooner.  As for GG, well, once she learned about the clown, she loved the clown and Kris quietly died once again.

When God told me to make Italian Missionary Girl my real daughter, I only had one condition - no more walls! At first, for a few moments a week, I could be me.  Then for a few hours a day for almost two months, I could be me.  She did not need entertained, she could see something no one else had ever seen.  I wholly trusted her.  I even shared the most personal thing there is about me, the music I like.  In the end, she forgot everything, and turned truth into a curse at my church.

And God literally delivered Niece at my door within days.  And I sat and contemplated this ..... What is God up to?  Is Kris supposed to try again?  Or does he just rip his own heart out and die permanently?  Unlike Daughter, Niece is perhaps the most empathetic person I have ever even heard of.  And I stayed polite but as distant as polite allowed, please no more sharpened stake carrying females!  But, then God told me I had to talk with her - I had to minister to her, I had to show the REAL Him to her, I had to make myself vulnerable, I had to be transparent.  So, I took a risk and showed her the most horrible thing in God's creation - me.  I expected the stake through the heart, I knew it was over, just kill me now God!

Like daughter she did not run.  Like daughter she had a burden to release herself of.  Like daughter she was able to.  And Kris holds his breath now.  Everything fell apart last time at this point!

I see myself wanting to become the clown to protect what little of me is left.  But, God says no.  Oh Lord, if you only knew how much I need to!  But, I have to trust.  I have to have faith.  I have to place that tiny part of me under the point of her ..... well that is the question!  Does she have a stake?  I am thinking God thinks otherwise else He would not offer me up for execution, maybe.  What if this is like some big test: set Kris up in the exact same situation again and really polish him off this time.  The July 16th heart attack, I could survive but there have been 156 since!  How weak am I physically now?  I would prefer death to knowingly being betrayed again.

And drama aside, Niece wonders the same.  She dropped her guard, because she needed to , to a strange old German.  Appalling and yet her spirit gave her no choice.  And in her fear, does Kris carry a stake meant for her?  Am I to polish her off - just as I have feared for me?  I guess I found that slightly funny.  Two wounded people God has brought together, each needing healed, each possessing what the other needs to do so.  For her, I hope to be the best friend she has ever had.  For me, I pray - because with the absence of desire, the is nothing I want or need.  God has to see to that.  I hope she stays around, there are so few friends left these days.

In me, God continues to talk: to reveal things I need to know now and for tomorrow.  To explain yesterday in terms I can understand, to show me what I might have understood had I been normal.   To tell me how to pray daily.  And the ever constant discernment, telling me what I do not want to know, am powerless to change, yet can protect myself via.  Then God shows me my daughter's face quite often, so I can "see" what is behind the mask she wears every-time I see her.  The pain her mother has brought upon her, she need never have suffered.  The damage this leads to.

And I look into my Niece's eyes, her walls now gone at least with me, and I see all that I must not tell her.  Sometimes it is so very hard.  She is so judgmental of herself, but I try to gently deflect her self loathing to understanding she is a new creation, she is loved, she never has to be that other person ever again.  I never ever want to see my daughter's pain reflected in Niece's eyes.  I never ever want to see her walls up again.....

And God willing I will be granted the opportunity to heal my daughter of her choices again.  It is important for me to know she can face her world, much less herself, without her walls up as well.  But that lay within God's hands and her willingness to listen to Him.