“…just show up” she said. “You don’t have to do anything, or be anyone, all you have to do is just show up.”
Why is that so hard? Why is walking out the door, to a room full of strangers, one of the hardest things this little heart can imagine?
I can disarm them with my smile. I can ‘wow’ them with my questions that mimic concern. I can be all they want me to be and still go home feeling empty…
What does it take to ‘be known’? What does it take to get past the niceties and feel the at-ease-ities? Does it always take baring a soul? Does it always take a step beyond?
I take one step. They take two. I take one step. They take two. A Cha Cha Cha with two left feet that inevitably leaves me stumbling to the ground, tripped up by a rhythm I’ve never had.
And who exactly is “they” … the ones that feel like me, hopelessly drained by social interaction? Or the ones that get energy from it… yet flit to those they know in a frenzy of unity that wafts a chill in their wake – rushing to a huddle I know I don’t belong.
“…just show up.” she said.
Is that all it takes to be known? Occupying space in a room too big to snuggle? Standing as if branded by the sign that says, “My name is Jane, but you scare me, so approach with caution, and by the way, I want you to leave… but I dare you to stay.”
We need each other, the experts say. The trouble is: what does ‘needing each other’ look like? Stiff handshakes, plastered smiles, time clocks set for the necessity of niceties. It’s fake and it makes me want to puke.
But I know I’m fake too. I crave to be known and yet turn to a world that marks relationships with “likes” and “tweets” and 30 second updates.
So, seriously, what’s the answer? “…just show up?”
And how many times, in my safe quiet place, have I said, “Jesus is the answer.” And if that’s true, how would He answer this place of need…”…just show up?”
…umm, maybe. (She said, mustering her most heroic voice.)
Fully God. Fully man. Maybe Jesus understands the complexities of a dual identity too? Maybe we’re all not so un – alike after all. Maybe I need to “keep faking it, until I make” … keep pretending I’m comfortable with you, until I am. Maybe you need to keep taking a chance with me, letting my quietness not scare you too quickly to your huddle … until quietness is a new trick in your bag.
Maybe I can Cha, and then you can Cha, and we can let Him do the Cha Cha Cha part.
Maybe we both “just show up” and give our hearts to dancing with the Evening Star.
Bottom line, I know I’m safe in my world…. But maybe sometimes I’d rather be unsafe in yours.
… so, how ’bout it, is it a date?