Layers.
A stunningly raw piece by one of the leaders on the York County Prayer team, Lauren Paden.
Staring.
The reflection reveals each shape, circle, line. Piece by piece making up the sum of me.
Hiding.
Dark circles fade, tired skin powdered pink, hair burned to place, clothes tucked to please. Security wrapped. I know and live the way of layers. Who do I want to reveal today? Not me. The true me. I couldn’t if I tried…
Looking.
Comparing.
Wanting.
Despairing.
Judging.
Oh, how ugly this cycle is. Oh, how ugly my insides feel…yet my mind gets away with me again.
How do I come face to face with Jesus?
So I hide below the layers. The way of Eve ingrained to my core.
Why would I show Him? I wouldn’t dare.
What would it feel like? To be face to face…the true me with all of you?
Layer by layer pulled back, washed off to my naked core. Arms hugging as the last protective layer slips down with my eyes, head bowed in shame. After all, isn’t this why I hide? I feel water rushing over, this baptism of yours. But I cannot yet register the pleasure of the feeling as my knees are shaking, fear bubbling…
Are you looking? Are you seeing all that I am so desperately trying to hide?
This curiosity trumps fear as I cautiously peek up.
You aren’t looking.
You are beholding.
Eyes so full of love, of grace, of beauty.
My arms soften, head slowly straightens, eyes fully open.
Wonder.
Face to face. No layers. Our eyes meet. Eyes so big, so bright that I see me in those eyes of yours.
Will you let me see me like you do?
My eyes long for wholeness. Color. Light and dark shadowed in harmony. Beauty.
What have I cultivated by learning to look so shallow? So skin deep? Why have I missed all the tiny intentional choices you made to create my eyelashes or freckles kissing my nose? Why have I stared and judged and diminished and hated and, in doing so, shaped my thinking into false, fake, superficial?
Lord, Oh Lord, be Lord over my eyes and thoughts of beauty and purpose and good. I’m so sorry for allowing you to save my heart but not these eyes of mine. Oh Lord, be Lord over my eyes.
Can I come Home to myself?
Release the layers used to manipulate and control the appearance of who I am? Instead can I be?
But what if I appear weak or ugly or undesirable? What if no one wants me? The me behind the layers?
I am so limited, I cling, I grasp, I’m selfish and jealous and prideful…I long to be put on a stage and applauded. I want glory!
There I said it.
What do I do with that ugliness? That exposure. I want to throw it far from me so I hide it. Layer on top. But it’s there.
Can you do something with this? With me? This naked truth that our face to faceness revealed?
I realize quickly I cannot handle glory. Glory is heavy. It’s not the banner over me that brings life. It simply doesn’t fit. It’s almost laughable now, this admission - like a fish declaring its indulgent desire for wings yet hates everything about air. Longing for its watery home.
No. You say softly. Your banner isn’t glory. It is love.
My banner over you is love.
You untangle the glory banner from my twisted fingers and place it on your rightful shoulders. I am relieved. I can finally breathe. More than that I want to dance under this newfound skin! I AM LOVED! I shout! I laugh! I delight in being delighted in! And in this dance under love’s banner, I see you gazing at me. I long for closeness. So I get as close as I can. Nose to naked nose.
Oh, beautiful beloved.
Once I saw through a mirror dimly. Now. I see you and you see me face to face.
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