come and find me
when i was a kid, i used to hide in the most awkward places. because i was not very big, i could fit in the tiniest of hiding spots. i was a pro at hiding in any pile of blankets, strategically placing them to ensure the way in which they lay there seemed natural enough for me to remain undetected. and despite my chatterbox nature and outgoing personality, i was very good at being very quite and unseen when i needed to be.around the time i was 6 years old, my family and i went to visit our distant relatives upstate. you know, it's those relatives you only encounter about once a year. it was these particular relatives that were know for their very fancy house and expensive cars, though i am sure that their house seemed a lot bigger to me then since everything seems grandeur when you're 6. my two cousins had all of the coolest things, and when around them, i did my best to keep up my end of the conversation concerning all of the latest and greatest toy knowledge. even at that age, i knew that money makes people so much cooler than those without it. i remember trying my hardest to impress them.
this particular visit was to celebrate my cousin, luis' birthday. aside from the fact that he had money, he was so funny and everyone liked him. playing koosh tennis on the front lawn of their mansion, i dominated every opponent that dared to challenge me. (please tell me someone remembers koosh balls?) it was time for me to go against my cousin luis. he was a formidable opponent, and at one point, i wasn't sure if i could beat him. then one fateful serve, luis tossed the koosh, swung his racket just strong enough to set me up for victory. everything went in slow motion. i smiled inside because i knew that i was about to own my cousin. eyeing the koosh so very carefully, my racket made the perfect connection. and as the koosh ball sailed far above my cousin's head, my heart sunk in dispair as i soon realized that the ball was lost forever in the high gutters of luis' mansion.
we all know the scene; it was as if i were in the schoolyard of my elementary school. all of the kids gathered around me throwing their mean comments around like paper airplanes, threatening to make me climb the fence to go and get the lost koosh. every apology seemed to be rejected by the angry mob. i tried to convince them that luis had so many cooler toys in comparison. i even tried to remind them that kids in africa don't have any toys so we should be grateful that we still have food on the table. my nerves in disarray and my heart beating in 16th rhythms, i did what i always would in times of conflict. i found a place to hide.
not too much has changed since then. in moments of fear and ridicule, i often find myself searching for a place to curl up and hide away from the eyes of the world. just last night my best friend and i were fighting. for some reason (still unclear ot me), everything i said or did just seemed to piss her off. there was this tension in the room between us that was as tough as nails and as thick as concrete. we tried to be cordial to one another, but finally, i could not take the pressure any longer. so i ran away, i hid on the fire escape and i cried. for two hours. non-stop. (i know, i'm a baby.) as much as i tried to fight it, i felt so rejected and foolish for allowing anyone's words or attitude toward me to have this much affect. to be honest, i felt quite worthless, especially because here is a person who claims to know me and love me beyond measure, yet i ask a simple question as to how her day is going, and i get the sideways glance and the deep sigh of annoyance. i realize that people have their off days, and i want to leave room for grace in those times. (God knows i need grace on my off days!) i love her too much to hold it against her, yet it doesn't negate the fact that it hurts.
over the last several years, i have walked through this journey of allowing the light of Jesus to be a search light into some places of my heart that were hidden and dark and even heavily guarded. there is this sense of security in guarding your vulnerable thoughts and struggles and fears. why should i let anybody else into those places of my heart and mind? when no one else is there, there is no chance of being found out or even worse, utterly rejected. if i do a good enough job at hiding, some may even think that i do not have any insecurities at all. so why risk it? i once believed that in order to gain respect and acceptance by the majority, one must build a reputation that has no blemish or fault. yet funny how it is when you gain the whole world and still feel as though your soul is lost. (sound familiar?)
in running away, i have this skwed idea that it makes me a stronger person to save face. truth be told, i want nothing more than to be sought after and found i those times of hidig. hours must have passed before anyone found me, sitting in my relatives' parked volkswagon minibus. i still remember the smell of the vintage leather and gasoline, curled up in a ball behind the driver's seat, crying and sweating from the California summer heat. my uncle finally found me there, half asleep. after all of that, all it took for me to leave that garage was for him to look me in the eye and tell me that i was forgiven and that everyone at the party missed me. (of course, the fact that he made my cousin come over and apologize helped too.)
time and time again, i have be told to live in "the light" - in vulnerability and accountability. even so, this process of running toward the light instead of away from it has been a hard lesson to learn. it seems as though running and hiding is more in my nature than i realized. or even when i do let people "see me", i have this horrible fear that when they do, they will hate what they see. because really, the rejection of the person you make yourself out to be is not nearly as painful as the rejection of the person you actually are. i haven't completey figured out how to remain in this light, but i am grateful for those who, in times of hiding, will take the time to come and find me.
