Stained glass honesty.

I've been inspired by my very honest blogging peers who have laid their hearts and shortcomings out on the table in the past week or so. Oftentimes, I will start a blog, only to realize that it makes me sound shallow or miserable or unkind...and then I trash it. The truth of the matter is that I'm often shallow, miserable, and unkind. All at once. I'm a human, but for some reason, the internet leads me to hide that. Transparency is a treasure in relationships, but not on the web. When the screen separates us, I somehow feel that I won't be understood, so I shouldn't post my true self. I should just fake all of my readers out, and convince you that I have it all together. See, the truth is I don't have it all together. I'm doing good to have all my clothes on when I leave the room. I often say things that don't reflect me or Christ well. I can be needy and clingy, relying on friends rather than the Lord. I leave a mess everywhere, and my feelings are easily hurt. I rarely wash my hair. I bite back bitter words, only to harbor the feelings in my heart. I hate making my bed. I rarely fold my clothes straight out of the dryer, thus my wrinkled appearance on a daily basis. I don't really know what the top of my desk looks like. I don't share Oreos with anyone. I get really frustrated when I'm not asked how I am. I judge easily, and sometimes I even share my judgement with my best friends. I am easily jealous and selfish. And honestly, I've not been doing so hot lately. Depression eats me up so much of the time. It keeps me from being my usual exuberant self, and puts me in this mopey box where I sit and try to blog, but can't think of anything encouraging to say. As much as I long to bring you encouraging words of wisdom from the Scripture, I just don't have encouragement to give. As much as I want to retell funny stories from my life, jokes fall flat when they land on my ears. As much as I want to relay my excitement at the end of the semester and my wonderful summer job, I know that it would sound fake and empty...and empty would be appropriate. For, though I am lit up with the light of Christ, I feel very hollow inside, as if the life within me has been replaced with something thin. Almost as if my stained-glass insides have been replaced with plastic wrap copies...the rich jewel tones of the pieces of my heart have been thinned and flattened into meager representations of their former colors. The Light can still shine through, but I don't feel like it looks as lovely shining through me. In all of this, I stand with  Job, who makes my life look like a picnic, and I say along with him, "I know that my Redeemer lives." For He does, and He will stand on this earth. Be it tomorrow or ten thousand years from now, the war has already won...and my little battle doesn't count for anything.
So, be it stained glass or plastic wrap, my heart will still sing the same Name. For even in my darkest days and hardest hours, the Name of Jesus is comforting and reassuring, for He does live. Even when I don't feel that it is worth it, He lives on. And that, my friend, shines through. All hollowness aside, His glory is glorious forever.