Just throw me a bone already!

Today, as my three year old sat at the breakfast table laughing and gnoshing on fried eggs and toast, she looked up with a delighted face and exclaimed, "Mommy, you are so funny!"

Somewhat startled I asked, "Ciara, why do you think I'm so funny?"

With the simplicity and directness so frequently found in three year olds she replied, "Because Silly, you make me laugh!"

I think what struck me as so extraordinary about this rather mundane conversation was the realization that outside of my immediate family, it is highly improbable that other people think I am the least bit funny.

I wonder why this is?

Is it because I am too afraid to expose this silly side of myself to others? Am I so concerned about what others might think of me that I won't risk revealing the humor that so magically transforms a three year old child into a 30 pound bundle of giggles and glee?

I know that I hide too much of myself from the outside world and that I miss much by doing so.

On days like this, I cannot help but wonder why I choose to walk this tightrope of tension between desiring to be known as I truly am and fearing the transparency that is required.

The answer to all this wondering is quite simple really; but it's one I choose to ignore. Until I am willing to admit to my own self-loathing and fear, I will never be completely free to be the woman I am meant to be.

If another person were admitting this to me about themselves I would want to cover them with my love and acceptance. I would want to tenderly whisper love into their life, hoping against hope, that some would filter through like osmosis and take root in their soul.

This is what I want and need for myself. My Christian friends tell me God has already done this for me. One would think I would know if God had suffused my spirit with His love; but I see little evidence of this supernatural event having occurred...

The question then becomes, do I need the evidence in order to believe? In this one instance I say "Yes!" Yes, I do need some verifiable proof. Would it be asking too much for God to throw this old dog a bone?

I'm asking you God, in full view of any who might actually read this blog, I'm asking. Just throw me a bone, ok?

Jerri