inside stuff

I've often wished that people knew what was going on inside of me, but I hesitate to be too self-disclosing for lots of (mostly neurotic) reasons. I'm worried about what they might think of me, what sort of impression I'm making, or I'm just ashamed of what I'm thinking about or feeling.

And I've often wished that I knew more of what was going on inside of other people. It's funny how people that I'm "close" to often have no idea what's going on inside of me nor I of what's going in inside of them. We're pretty selective about what we want others to know about us.

God isn't like that. He wants us to know everything about him. He invites us into the inner recesses of his heart. He longs for us to know his mind. What we don't know about him is our own fault: we're too self-absorbed, too narrow-minded, too immature.

Unlike me, God doesn't get defensive or put up walls. He was willing to get hurt, even to the point of dying. He didn't try to protect himself. And, in a weird way, that is the source of his power. His love, which made him take on the vulnerability of a Jewish baby born to peasants who were part of an oppressed people, compelled him all the way to death as a counter-cultural teacher. And that death conquered Death and the power of sin because he wasn't just a baby or a teacher, he was God who is love.

I need the transforming power of that love. If you could see inside me, you'd know how much I need it.