I'm an introvert at heart.
I don't like to stand out unless I'm being seen in a positive light. But I don't like to stand out in that light for more than 5 minutes or so. If I stand out there in the bright sunshine of human appreciation, I may get a sunburn or worse, I might become a little too lit.
I remember when ESPN first started broadcasting in HDTV. In that ultra-clarity that we had never dreamed of seeing, where blues were bluer and greens were greener, celebrities looked...plainer.
In that HDTV light, the inches of caked makeup were more visible and ghastly than before. In standard definition, it was easy to make people look good. The light didn't have to be that good because the film didn't pick up so many of the crow's feet, stretchmarks, pockmarks, or laugh/worry lines that HDTV did. I mean, the first time I saw Al Michaels in HD, I thought he had just been the victim of some botched plastic surgery.
So I don't like to stand out in that HD positive light because the longer I do, the more clearly you can see the flaws in my body and my personality and my character.
When I was growing up, the golden rule of relationships was this: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. A lot of kids my age were taught that. And a lot of our parents were taught that. And a lot of us are teaching that to today's kids. The thing is, I don't think that's necessarily a good thing.
See, when I was growing up, we sacrificed honesty and love for kindness and courtesy (which are counterfeit virtues. Their nice to have, but empty if abused.)
I have a couple good friends who don't always live by the "only say kind things" rule. I have friends who--when they need to--can cut me down. And I think that's a good thing.
For example, anybody who has known me for a day or so knows that I apologize for everything. It's my current bad habit that I'm trying to break. I apologize for being too late. I apologize for being too early. I apologize when I pass people walking by. I apologize for dropping crumbs. If I breathe near you...I will apologize.
I didn't know it was really an issue. I thought it was me being polite. If you mess up, apologize--the formula made sense to me. But then some of my closest friends started pointing out this annoying--and wrong-hearted behavior.
"You aren't really sorry." A poke.
"You apologize all the time. It's annoying." A nick on the chest.
"Why do you always have to apologize?" A cut, drawing blood.
"Stop apologizing. It's just you trying to look more polite than you are." Slice.
Sometimes I hate standing in the light of being known, because in the brightest light is when the surgery happens. When I'm letting people look at me and look at my personality and my life and my heart--that's when God, as chief surgeon, uses all of my friends as scalpels and tools for cutting into me. For removing the cancer inside.
When I avoid community, I'm avoiding treatment. Now, granted, just because somebody tells me I suck, doesn't mean they are helping me. It's only in the Master Surgeon's hands that a tool does it's job well.
I'm glad my friends are all tools. Without them, there would be no one to point out the places where God has helped me grow and heal and maybe more importantly, there would be nobody to help point out where I have yet to let God go.
It hurts. I'll admit. My best friends always say the most hurtful things. And like a physician trying to set a broken bone, it has to hurt before it will get any better. I should't seek pain like some sort of masochist, but I should seek pain that leads to devotion and holiness. I should be glad that my friends are sharp and that they can cut both quick and slow. I should be glad that my friends can be as precise as a scalpel or as broad as a chainsaw. And sometimes both are needed.
I hope that your friends are sharp too and that they cut you deeply. Because it's not until you are exposed to loving eyes around you, that you can begin to be known.
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