Bullet Proof vs. Authenticity

30 Jan Bullet Proof vs. Authenticity

I am currently sitting outside in the middle of my driveway. Laptop in, well…my lap. Three ridiculously cute pups are running around at my feet. The sunshine is warming my head. And I have a palm filled with things that came flowing out of my brain on my way home from church this morning. These are the things I will attempt to write to you in my, what promises to be very long, blog post.

I don’t exactly know where to begin so I’ll start with what made my weekend. Remember the guy I told you about that was in my Zumba class last week? I don’t remember if I noted his age, but he’s probably 17-ish. (I’m really bad with ages so I’m not betting my life.) He returned yesterday to my Zumba class and with nothing less but a friend in tow. A girlfriend? No. No my friend…a guy friend. 😀 (Pause to let that sink in. Imagine: A room filled with mostly middle-aged women, a few younger, and a few older…and two high school guys. Awesome? I think so.) Although this is one of my smallest and hence, quietest Zumba classes it has come to be my most favorite. These guys are my favorites. The guy returning from last week comes with his mom (who, bt dubbs…has lost over 100 lbs. in the past year. Woah.) Their enjoyment for life is apparent as I scream, and laugh (at myself), make stupid jokes, and sometimes simply make a fool of myself…while others are feeling too awkward in their own skin and wondering if they look stupid trying to do something that I’m doing…these two laugh, smile back at me, shake, jump a little higher, hop a little further…whatever the current song calls for. And it makes me happy. After class we’re all talking and he asks me if I can Dougie? I answered no (my brother’s response was “Sissy! What!? You don’t know the Dougie? Jeez…that’s like months old.” Ok so apparently I’m uncool now). So I ask him to show me and before I know it he hands me his phone (that I diligently plugged into the speaker system) and is standing in the middle of the room (where other people are still standing around chatting) doing “the Dougie!” AH!!!!! It. Was. Incredible. I mean…cocky is a different thing, simply being comfortable in your own skin enough to do that was by all means the top pick of my work week. I will pause for a moment to recognize that this may not be a huge deal for some of you…I mean, why would it be? Unless you are a person who is insecure or who has learned to not be seen or heard or who doesn’t think they can do anything ‘crazy’ …it’s a big deal. I am drawn to people who are comfortable and confident in who they are (mostly because I’m not really) and this was an excellent display of just that. Bravo guy in Zumba class, thank you for making my day.

On my way home I heard the song “Bullet Proof,” the main line of this song being, “this time, baby, I’ll be bullet proof.” I was singing along and thinking that “Yes…that is exactly right. How can I make myself more bullet proof? How can I not get hurt? I’m tired of being hurt and disappointed and sad and scared. I need to be bullet proof.” Just as quickly as these thoughts crossed my mind, Andy Stanley’s current series popped into my head…the point: Be Bold. This series is about the beginning of the movement called the church. One of the big points he has made is that we live in one of the safest places on Earth to live, yet take the smallest risks. As far as Christians go…we are the safest. But many people are concerned with getting hurt or hurting someone else, or offending someone to make any BOLD moves. And here I am (just twenty minutes post message) thinking “How can I never be hurt again?” Stupid. So stupid. What I really should be thinking is “How can God be more in my life and me be less? How can God display his immeasurable compassion through me? How can my earthly body beam with God’s radiant love? How can I love so intensely and passionately without fearing the pain that can come with it? How can I sing at the top of my lungs like the little four year old kids in my Waumba Land class do about how special they are because God loves them?” These are the thoughts that should have been racing through my brain, but yet I’m scared. And at the root of me…I’m nothing good really. But God is.

Because of circumstances before I ever got to church this morning, my fuse was shorter than I would have liked it to be when I arrived for Waumba Land at 8:30. A couple of older women who like to do things their way run my class and that is great because they are good at it…but I was easily annoyed. Then there was this one boy who (completely out of character) pitched two fits throughout the morning that consisted of jumping up and down, waving his arms, screaming at the top of his lungs, and crying. As I recognized the effects these situations were having on me I couldn’t help but be concerned with my own lack of compassion and mercy for these other children of God. Then I thought…are you seriously trying to be a counselor with your compassion meter so low!?? Really?

Oh what a sad and pitiful person I can be without my perfect father. I’m going to share a song (By Hillsong) we sang at church this morning that could not be anymore the desire of my heart and the simple Truth. As I continue to allow myself to shrink away into the background and let God fill me up…I can only be thankful that those around me have been gracious with me and my wandering soul. I love you all. Thank you.