I'm attending this book study with some women from my church. It's been a great class and I've thoroughly enjoyed watching the healing that's taking place in their lives as a result of the Spirit's call to freedom. It's been super cool.
But this particular night was really frustrating for me.
We had this activity where we write down on one side of a paper how we think other people view us. Ok...creative, bold, committed, reserved, intellectual....
Then, we turn the paper over and it gets passed around the room and everyone else writes what they think about Rebecca Herndon.
Uh-oh, right?
No, not really. That type of thing used to scare me, but not anymore. Why?
Ok, who's really gonna write anything negative? Constructive criticism, anyone? (...funny, didn't realize the cricket in the room until just now.)
The paper comes back (ah, the suspense)...and Rebecca Herndon is...
Quiet.
Intelligent.
Soft spoken.
Discerning.
Determined.
Loves God.
Yep.
Ok, so aside from the affirmation that I have a pretty realistic grasp on myself, here's why this was so frustrating.
One, the activity itself has always seemed faulty to me. What about the things on the back of that paper? I am neither ignorant nor self-decieved. I know I can come across as abrasive, too bold, insensitive, aloof...and the list goes on.
Is the ultimate goal to ignore those weaknesses and only tell myself positive things?
I sure hope not. Because there's a very real part of me that longs DESPERATELY for growth, for wholeness, to know and be fully known. And a bunch of compliments doesn't really get me there.
Annnnd, that's when it hit me.
What bothered me most about the evening was not the compliments (they were all very nice and I really am thankful), but I want (read "need") people around me who, in love, can speak the more difficult truths. Where's the opinions about me that spur me on to maturity, to love, to being like Christ? Those are the affirmations and challenges that I actually WANT to hear!! That quality feedback that is the Miracle Grow of life!
Ok, about the bedroom.
I called my friend Mindy on the way home. (If there's ever a person who will be brutally, painfully, searingly honest with you, take the blinders of bliss off your eyes and still make you feel absolutely loved in the process, it's Mindy Lou.)
Relationships are like a house, Bec, she says. Some people only walk by outside the fence and wave hello as they continue on their way. You might wave back, if you happen to notice the gesture.
Others come inside the fence, maybe play frisbee in the yard or comment on how nice your garden is looking.
Still others you welcome to your front porch. You share iced tea as you sit in the rockers and talk about the week, the soccer game, what's going on at church.
Then, there are a few that you invite into your home, beyond the front door, and you share a meal together. You spend time making this meal - you care about these people and they care about you. You might divulge the difficulties you're having at work, the great things God has taught you this week, or some minor challenges that you're currently facing. But, you still clean the house before they come. After all, they really don't need to see what a mess your family can be.
But then there's the bedroom, and that space is reserved for only an intimate circle of your closest, truest friends. You've done life with them. They know you and you know them. They know the faith issue you're struggling with, the financial difficulties, the marital problems. They also know your deepest hopes and dreams, your passions, your giftings. They also know what keeps you up at night. They believe in you and they want the best for you. Sure, they'll call your bluff when they need to, but only because they love you and want to see you grow. And of course, they're the first to see when you do. *
It was the perfect analogy. Perfect, because as she said it I realized something very important. Though I am a person who loves depth, loves getting to the root of things, and loves challenging and being challenged, I can be deep to a fault.
Not everyone can fit in the bedroom.
Not everyone should be there.
(Though many think they do because it makes some pretty juicy gossip on the street. "You should pray for Becca, she's....")
And what was most important for me to realize tonight: I don't really want everyone there. I think I want brutal honesty, and I really do, but I only want it from those dedicated few who have also been ferocious with their love for me. They've pushed through my walls and found the real me on the other side.
A person from the street, and maybe someone playing frisbee in my front yard, wouldn't be as heard as one who speaks from my bedroom.
And you know what? That's perfectly okay.
I'm an open person, but that doesn't mean I have to go soul-deep with every person I meet. Ideally, sure, it'd be nice. But it's also a two way street. Those in my bedroom have also given me full entrance into theirs. It's the ra‘yāh type of love that the ancient Hebrews knew as a deep knowing and absolute commitment.
Lesson learned: It's ok to have boundaries. It's ok that not everyone will give challenging feedback in a heart of love. It's ok that not everyone will know me well enough to be able to do that.
And, it's okay to close my bedroom door and reserve that sacred space for a small few who know and love me and speak truth to me best.
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If you're reading this and you're offended that you aren't on that inside, intimate circle of mine, please don't be....you don't open your bedroom to everyone, either.
* Great analogy, but I'd add one more level: the bathroom. This one goes beyond the bedroom....waaaaaay beyond. It represents those remote few who have really seen your crap - the most offensive, disgusting, repulsive part of you - and still love you anyway. Now THAT is a rare friend indeed!
