The value of being genuine and the cost of being fake

Most Monday nights, my roomie and I grab our fleece blankets and watch Antiques Roadshow on PBS. Sometimes we color, and other times we just watch, but we always marvel at the array of valuable items people hang on their walls or use for storing spare change.

And then sometimes we grimace in sympathy for the poor folks who bring in priceless artifacts that turn out to be reproductions. Items these people spend hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars on are worth only pennies in comparison.

That should tell us something about the value of being genuine, not just in living but in living for Christ.

I like genuine people. I like knowing that the person I’m talking to is real, honest, transparent. I like knowing that they’re telling me exactly what they feel, because then there’s no surprises later. But how many genuine people do we really know? How many genuine Christ-followers do we know?

We can find a definition for being a genuine Christ-follower in 1 John 4:20-21. “If someone says, ‘I love God,’ but hates a fellow believer, that person is a liar; for if we don’t love people we can see, how can we love God, whom we cannot see? And he has given us this command: Those who love God must also love their fellow believers.”

You don’t get much clearer than that. If you want to be a genuine Christ-follower, you need to love people. What I find interesting is that this passage says we’re supposed to love other Christ-followers. Shouldn’t that be easy?

Have you ever been around a church?

Christians are the hardest people in the world to love. I’ve been blessed with so many awesome Christ-followers in my life, and they are priceless to me. But I’ve also been surrounded by Christians who aren’t so nice.

Religion and church people have torn me up inside. They’ve cut me to ribbons and left me bruised and broken at the side of the road. And other church people have seen me lying there and kept on walking. The people in my life who have dealt me the deepest wounds are people who claim to follow Jesus.

[su_pullquote align=”right”]You can’t let what someone else has done to you force you into being someone God never intended you to be.[/su_pullquote]

It’s not okay. But if you’ve been there, you’re not alone. And you can’t let what someone else has done to you force you into being someone God never intended you to be.

Jesus didn’t save us because we’re smart or funny or pretty. He didn’t save us because we’re popular or the best at something. Jesus saved us because He loves us for who we are. He’s the only one who really knows us that well anyway.

So why not be real? Why not be genuine? Sure, it’s a little scary to reveal your heart and your soul to other people. Believe me. I’m an introvert. I know.

Why not love people? Loving others can be dangerous, yes. You always risk your heart when you love, but focus instead on loving God more than you love people. And He’ll give you the love you need to share with others.

Being genuine, loving people, doesn’t really cost you anything. Being with people costs you less in emotional damage than the price you pay by hiding your heart.

You want to be valued? Be genuine. You want to be genuine, Christians? Love your brothers and sisters in Christ. God’s words. Not mine.

You can look perfect outside and be a wreck inside

Think of your favorite television show character or your favorite character from a novel. Just name someone. Why do you like that character so much? There are all sorts of reasons why people identify with fictional characters, and, as a novelist, it’s fascinating for me to understand why. But one thing I’ve discovered in most character studies is that people respond to vulnerabilities.

You could have a character in a book or movie that has no weakness, never screws up, never makes enemies, but I’m not sure anyone would like him. He’d be boring. At a writer’s conference I was just at, one of the speakers explained that the human brain’s favorite story is a story of struggle. Those are the tales we love, and, by extension, those are the characters we love too.

If you identify a favorite fictional character that you’ve seen or read about, just think for a moment about what kind of vulnerabilities that character has. And I’m not talking about weaknesses. I mean the bits and pieces of their lives that humanize them. The dust on their bookshelves, the disordered chaos of their spaceship, the wrinkles in their superhero cape, and their willingness to share it with others or hide it.

I’d be willing to bet that your favorite character has some quirks and tics that make him or her vulnerable, because that’s what makes a character likable. And in real life, it’s also what makes a person real.

Today’s verses are 1 Peter 3:3-4.

Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.

This verse is mainly directed at women, but I think the context is relevant to both genders. We live in world that’s obsessed with appearances. We’re told every moment of every day how we should look, and if we don’t conform, there’s something wrong with us. We’re instructed to fill in all the gaps, to fix all the cracks, and to patch up the dents by whatever means necessary so that we don’t give people the idea that we’re unprofessional or uneducated or unpopular.

Dye your hair. Bleach your teeth. Pluck your eyebrows. And there’s nothing wrong with any of that, but don’t you ever get tired of not being real? Don’t you ever wonder if the face of the person sitting across from you is their actual face? Or is it a mask they’ve applied to keep people from getting too close?

Being vulnerable isn’t about being weak. It’s about admitting that you don’t have it all together. It’s knowing that your bookshelves are dusty and your trash cans are full and your workspace is messy and still being okay if other people see it. That’s hard to do. It’s difficult to open yourself up to criticism that way, because people are critical. People like to poke fun at others for a variety of reasons, and if you open your heart to another human being, you’re always taking the risk that it will backfire.

You can look perfect on the outside and be a wreck inside. You can give the appearance of having it all together but in reality your world is falling apart. When you’re out in the world or at work or at church, you just slip your mask on and pretend like everything is fine, until you get home, and there’s no one to face the darkness by your side. Why would there be? You’ve convinced everyone that there is no darkness.

No one is strong enough to get through life alone. And it is absolutely possible to make people think you’re fine when you really aren’t. And, sure, it’s scary to wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s terrifying to open your life to someone else’s scrutiny, but it’s what’s inside you that matters the most. The person you are in your soul is the person who will live forever, not the made-up, all-together fashion plate on the outside.

Instead of worrying about whether or not you look like you’ve got life figured out, spend some time actually figuring life out by reading the Bible and listening to what God says. He’ll tell you how to live. He’ll tell you what’s important.

So let’s get vulnerable. Let’s get real. That doesn’t mean you walk around telling everyone your troubles and your sorrows. But it does mean that you aren’t ashamed of them.

Don’t be afraid to share the real you

This is my last week at my job. It hasn’t really sunk in yet. I’m not sure when it will. I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m going to be a bawling mess on Friday, not necessarily because I’m sad to leave but because I’m going to miss the wonderful people who’ve played such a huge role in my professional life.

My cubicle was like Grand Central Station yesterday. So many people came by, just to chat, and it was great. I am usually tucked away in a corner somewhere quiet where I can compose articles and feature stories in relative quiet, so I don’t often see people. Everyone who came by wanted to know what was going on, where I was heading, why I was leaving, and I had decided that if people asked, I would tell them.

If somebody asks me why I’m leaving, I’m going to tell them it’s because I believe God is calling me to something bigger. That’s a great thing to tell someone of likeminded faith. Generally speaking, they’ll understand what you’re saying. They might even identify with it. But try telling that to someone who doesn’t necessarily believe the same way that you do. What do you think is going to happen?

Honestly–I didn’t know what would happen, because I’ve usually chickened out at the last moment and offered a more “rational” explanation for why I’m walking away from my job. Because I do have rational reasons. They just aren’t the reasons that drive me.

And I’ve been afraid to tell people the real reason why I’m leaving. Well, I decided yesterday to stop being afraid and just be real with people. And you know what happened?

People cried.

Has that ever happened to you? You tell someone your dream or what God is doing in your life, and they start crying because they’re so happy for you? Or they’re so touched? Or they’re so excited?

I’m not sure that’s ever happened to me. But it happened yesterday. A lot. And that stunned me.

I’m an introvert–a true ISFJ if you’re into Meyers-Briggs personalities. I don’t share my personal feelings or thoughts with many people, mostly because I don’t think anyone will value them enough to care. That’s not a judgment against other people. That’s just the way I see my own feelings. I don’t understand what difference my feelings or thoughts will make to anyone else. But I re-learned an important lesson yesterday: My story isn’t about me.

Today’s verse is 1 Samuel 16:7.

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

When you present yourself to people, what do you think they’re looking at? They’re looking at your hair and your clothes probably. They’re making judgment calls about how put together you are (or how not put together you are). Face it, in the corporate world, your presentation leaves an impression. Your handshake tells a lot about your personality. Your ability to maintain eye contact tells a lot about your communication skills.

Ultimately, none of that really tells who you are. You can be dressed in the shaggiest, dirtiest, worst clothes in the world and be a millionaire, but nobody would know because people are only capable of seeing what’s on the outside. How wonderful is it that God sees our hearts and knows who we are in private?

I say it’s wonderful. Maybe it’s not so wonderful for you. I think that’s what bothers people about God, because He knows all our secrets, all the things we do in the dark that we think nobody will ever find out about.

God knows.

And let me tell you something, friend. God made you who you are. With all your foibles and quirks and idiosyncrasies, God crafted you to be uniquely you. There’s nobody else on Earth like you, so you should never ever be ashamed of God’s handiwork. And what’s more, if you’re redeemed–if you’ve trusted Jesus’ sacrifice to pay for your sins–you have a relationship with God Himself. Maybe the world is broken, but if you follow Jesus, you aren’t.

So why are you hiding? Why are you afraid to tell your story? Why are you afraid to share with others about what God has done in your life?

I can tell you why I’m afraid. I don’t like conflict. I don’t like confrontation. I’ve been scared that people will get upset at me or get up in my face and tell me I’m stupid. But I really believe that’s a fear planted in my heart by our enemy. Maybe people are that way in bigger cities, but nobody in Wichita has ever raked me over the coals for my faith. The times that I’ve spoken about it, people have always been very respectful and interested. And maybe that’s because I’ve made an effort to be respectful and interested about them first.

God has given me my story to live, and part of living my story is sharing what God is doing in my life. It doesn’t matter if people listen or not. It’s my responsibility to tell the story. That doesn’t mean I get to go around shouting at the top of my lungs to make sure everybody knows, but that also doesn’t give me a free pass to stay silent because I’m feeling uncomfortable.

So no more hiding. God’s given me a story to tell. It’s the story about how He saved me and set me on the path to achieving my heart’s greatest desire, and I’ll tell anyone who wants to listen. Doesn’t matter if they hear it or not. I will have done my part.

And maybe–just maybe–God can take my little story and use it to help change someone’s heart. Maybe I could be the little weight that tips the scales in convincing someone else to take a leap of faith for God.

God sees my heart. He knows who I am. And it’s time I start sharing that person with the people around me.

Save the costumes for Halloween

The last time I went trick-or-treating, I was in fourth grade. I think it was fourth grade. I dressed up as a clown, complete with the rainbow colored wig and big poofy pants and even the false nose. And I enjoyed myself thoroughly. There’s something fun—maybe even liberating—about dressing up and pretending to be somebody else.

Too much after that age, though, I think trick-or-treating is usually frowned upon. You get weird looks if you show up on somebody’s doorstep in a costume with a plastic bucket begging for candy.

Grown-ups don’t put on masks and costumes. At least, that’s the general supposition by the adult world. And I find that entirely ironic, because adults are better at wearing masks and costumes than any other demographic in the world.

The three Duck Dynasty amigos (or amigas, more accurately), Wichita, KS

Today’s verse is 1 Samuel 16:7.

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

I’m not sure where the desire to dress up as someone else comes from, but there’s something fun about it. Wearing clothes you wouldn’t normally wear. Acting in a way you wouldn’t normally act. I mean, give me a Jedi robe, and all of a sudden I want to get in a laser sword fight with somebody. That’s not a normal inclination for me to feel.

But practically speaking, outside of Halloween or fall festivals or whatever you want to call it, a lot more people get up in the mornings and put on costumes than you think. Most of them are adults, and they do it every day.

They wear clothes they don’t like to impress people. They paint their face up to present an image that doesn’t really exist. They force themselves to act in a way that’s inconsistent with their values or their personality. They’re playing a part.

Know anyone like that? Or maybe you’re that person.

Maybe it started out fun. You got to pretend that you were someone the world calls important. You got to become what the world calls successful or beautiful or accomplished. And that’s a good feeling for a little while. But even the most fun costume becomes a chore after you wear it for a long time. And what started out as being liberating turned into chains around your ankles.

Granted, just because you wear clothes you don’t enjoy doesn’t automatically mean that you’re wearing a mask or that you’re covering anything up. But the people I know who have to dive in to a hugely competitive job market or a truly aggressive corporate environment have to put on a face that isn’t their own. Otherwise, they’ll never succeed.

But if you spend too long wearing a mask, covering up who you really are, you run the risk of convincing yourself that you are that person.

So often we are dissatisfied with the way we look or our lack of talent in a particular area, and we do everything in our power to change it. And that’s not necessarily wrong. We should always try to improve ourselves. But when that desire to change comes from an internal motivation that we aren’t good enough the way we were made, that’s different.

I’m a firm believer that people need to be who they were created to be. We don’t need to change ourselves. We don’t need to pretend to be someone else. We don’t need to exchange our gifts for someone else’s. God made us exactly the way He wants us, and if we try to change that, we’re telling Him that He doesn’t know what He’s doing.

So what if you’re short? So what if you’re tall? Too skinny, too round, too light, too heavy, too this, too that. So what if you have a big nose or a double chin? So what if your shoes can double as tugboats?

Know what? God made you. Yes, you have a responsibility to be healthy. Yes, you have a responsibility to live the way God has said is right, which means being true to God’s Word. But none of that means you need to put on a mask in order for others to accept you. Your real friends and the people who matter will accept you for the person you are.

So just be you. And save your costumes for Halloween.

Do the license plates match the driver?

I did something yesterday that I’ve never done before. I rented a car and drove to Colorado Springs. When I woke up yesterday morning, I hadn’t planned to do it. When I posted yesterday’s blog, I didn’t realize I’d be writing today’s blog at the St. Francis Hospital in Colorado Springs.

But my life is just kind of funny like that.

To make a very long story short, my parents were vacationing in Colorado and my mom ended up having a problem with one of her fingers. Basically, she had to go in for emergency surgery. And I waited around home as long as I could, but when things started getting (more) complicated, I couldn’t stand it any longer. And I jumped.

One rented car. Most of my desk work from the office. An awesome boss who understands. Seriously…. the whole thing just ran really smoothly and I made it safely to Colorado Springs in about eight hours.

What was interesting to me, though, is that my rental car had Missouri plates. It was a little dark blue Nissan Altima. Really nice car. Did the job very well.

But as I was driving along the highway, another car pulled up beside me. A couple in the front seat looked at me and then drove on past, and I realized they had Missouri plates too. Maybe they knew someone with a dark blue Nissan Altima from Missouri? Maybe they thought they knew me? (or maybe they were just being weird)

Either way, they were obviously disappointed when they drove by and saw me inside. Not from Missouri. A Transplanted Texan who calls Kansas home.

They saw my rented car and expected to see someone they knew inside, but when they got a look at the inside, it wasn’t what they thought.

And I couldn’t help but think about how that relates to other aspects of life, especially in my study about attitude.

Egyptian statue’s head at the British Museum, London, England, UK

Today’s verses are Matthew 23:25-26.

What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are so careful to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside you are filthy—full of greed and self-indulgence! You blind Pharisee! First wash the inside of the cup and the dish, and then the outside will become clean, too.

How many times do you meet someone who presents the image of a “Good Christian,” the consummate Christ-follower, the role model believer? I’ve known a lot of them. But once I really got to know them, once I peeled back the layers and the masks and peeked inside the car windows, I got to see them for who they really were. And I was disappointed.

No, nobody is perfect, and we shouldn’t expect people to be perfect. We shouldn’t judge people for not meeting expectations. We shouldn’t judge people at all because we don’t know their hearts or their situations. But if you encounter a “good Christian” it’s normal to assume that their character will match their appearance. And that’s not always the case.

Those types of Christians have done more damage to the faith than anyone else. I’ve run into so many people who have chosen not to follow God because they’ve met Christians who don’t act like Christians.

So I don’t want to be like that. Not ever. I want my inside self, my character, my thoughts, my everything to be genuine, to be real, and to be 100% sold out to Christ.

It’s difficult, though. When you’ve grown up in the church, when you’ve lived so much of your life around church people, it’s so easy to put on a face. It’s so easy to put the mask on and act like a super Christian. And I’m not talking about teaching. I’m not talking about sharing the Bible with people. I’m not talking about trying to live a life and make choices that honor God.

But what about if someone asks how you’re doing? What about if you’re struggling with your faith? What about if you’re struggling in general? It’s so much easier to put a mask on and pretend like everything is okay, but that’s not healthy. And it’s not helpful.

No, I’m not going to be perfect, but I can be honest about not being perfect. I’m going to make mistakes, absolutely, but I can take responsibility for them and try never to make them again.

That way, my plates will match the person driving. What shows up on the outside won’t identify me as something I’m not.