It was July of 2022, I was sitting on the altar floor of my church and the Lord said the most dreaded phrase to me….”it’s time to take the walls down”. “No sir, it is not!” was my immediate response. How dare He? Seriously, did He not see the work I put into these walls? They are solid brick, intricate pieces put together perfectly! I spent time on this compound, time I cannot get back. It would be foolish of me to take these walls down now, completely irresponsible and not to mention leave me vulnerable.
I hate that word…vulnerable. It implies weakness and carelessness. For some reason my brain connects vulnerability with stupidity. I don’t know where intelligence came into the picture, but my ability to stay guarded as always correlated with my intelligence. Only morons leave themselves open for an attack. Now which attack was I preparing myself for, I don’t know. I imagine them all, whatever the world could come up with. All I know is I was safe. I was safe behind these walls I built and I was smart for building them. So you can imagine my irritation when my Creator, my Lord, said enough is enough.
I immediately began to imagine what it would look like if more people could get past these mile high walls. “Man. I’m gonna have to fix up the place”, was my thought process. If I was going to let more people “see” me or get to know me then I needed to work on me, quick! My to-do list got really long, really quick. I needed to paint the house, plant some flowers, maybe pave the driveway, and mow the lawn, or actually water the lawn, replace the windows, power wash the porch… You see, when you live behind walls you don’t worry too much about the maintenance of the house itself. No one is getting in to see the mess. I think that’s the point. It’s not so much about safety as it is about shame. So I sat there on the floor playing out the entire scenario in my head: I have walls and they need to come down. People will see the mess I’ve created. I’ll be embarrassed, they’ll leave. I’ll have to rebuild my fortress. Seems pointless, right? I agree.
In my mind, I wasn’t pretty enough or skinny enough to let people in. My mistakes and bad decisions were scattered all over the place like lawn ornaments and I didn’t have the charm of a pretty girl to overshadow them. What you see is what you get around here, but I just really don’t want you to see. So my defenses go up and I can control what parts of me you see and what parts you don’t. I thought it was brilliant plan.
“What if they don’t like me”. I don’t think I’ve audibly said that since primary school. But sitting on the altar floor, that’s the conversation I had with God. “What if they don’t like me, what if it’s too messy, what if they walk away?” People have walked away before and I don’t like that feeling. Especially when you went through so much trouble carving out a hole in the wall for them to get through.
Up to this point, I was getting comfortable with redemption because it was between me and Jesus. Him and I were rebuilding my house. It didn’t have to involve anyone else, it was personal and intimate. However, I knew this next step was about community and about being seen. It was no longer just about the interior of the house, but being apart of something bigger. I’ve spent a good majority of my life trying not to draw attention to myself and I knew that community was about vulnerability. I was terrified. My only coping skill was to think of all the ways I could present myself better to those around me. How could I make myself more appealing? I should grow my hair, keep my nails done, buy cooler clothes, be more confident (people like that). But in that still moment on the floor of my church, Jesus calmed every one of my fears. He said, “I will be your curb appeal.” It’s not up to you to be good enough, whatever that looks like for you. It’s not our responsibility to construct this magnificent house with a the best manicured lawn. It’s our responsibility to reflect Jesus. I don’t have to attract people to me or keep them entertained, my only goal in this life is to love people and to love them well. Jesus will take care of the rest. We are made in His image, He doesn’t take that lightly and neither should we. So accept freedom in that fact that God wants to be your curb appeal. We can all quit trying to work and earn our way into joy, peace, acceptance…He’s got you covered and your messy lawn.
Restorative Mercy 