You’ve been thinking a lot about why you write in second person. You enjoy writing in second person but think some of your thoughts are better served in first person. You also know that you have been writing in second person as a way to distance yourself from what you write. You know the only person you are fooling is….well….you. You’ve decided to take the first person plunge. In the name of transparency.
Transparency is something I think is important. Especially as a christian. If I can’t or won’t tell people in my life about what I am doing, I probably should not be doing it. That whole business about Christ being the light and the devil being the king of darkness have really rung true in my life. Fancy that, what the Bible says works out to be true, even in my own life…..especially in my own life.
It is important because if Christ is the center of my life, then I need the space around him to be transparent. Like my living room window. I have this painting that I did hanging above my couch in my living room. It is of Atlanta, and the space around it looks like the city is burning all over again. While it was not intentional while I was painting, I now think of that fiery color as the Holy Spirit descending on my city. Anyway, the painting can be seen really well at night if the curtains are open and the light is on. Because my windows are transparent. If they were made of that foggy glass that throws cool shadows on the floor, the painting would never be seen from the outside, only if you were invited into my home.
I think Christ is like that painting, and our lives are like the walls and windows in my living room. The world is dark, but the light is on in my house because Christ is in the center, and just like my sofa sized painting you really can’t miss Him. Not because of anything I have or have not done, simply because of who Christ is. But I have discovered, that if I want to, I can close the curtains to my life. Only let certain people through the door. Then only those I allow can see the way Christ is working in me. It seems safer somehow.
But if I believe that what Christ does in me is a beautiful work, if I really believe that He is the worthwhile part of my life, then I will pull back the curtain and make sure the windows are clean. It will feel a little uncomfortable at first. I will cry in places I am not supposed to, or reveal struggles no one talks about because that is where the Lord is working. But in my discomfort, my awkwardness, there will be Christ, sitting in my Living room.