The Naked Heart

I do not intend to be vulgar in this blog; however, I have to be honest...it involves nakedness. Wow, did that sound sketch or what? Anyway, a wise man by the name of Donald Miller once said that sometimes nudity is the point. In his book, Searching for God Knows What, he says that nudity in the Bible is important because in the Garden of Eden it not only symbolizes innocence but acceptance also. Adam and Eve knew they were loved by God and therefore they were not ashamed to run around without the latest Gucci handbag or Abercrombie sweatshirt. They understood who they were because they were defined by God. God told them that they were beautiful and lovely and that they were His, and this was enough to make them okay with shrieking across the bushes of the Garden of Eden.

Now, obviously after the fall, things changed. We can no longer completely feel defined by God because too many times in a selfish society like our own, which has been tainted by sin, we are defined by not only what others think of us but by ourselves as well. The basic American phrase that screams from the Statue of Liberty and the halls of any local middle school is that, in the US, you can be whoever or whatever you want to be. You can change from brunette to blond, old to young, and even from black to white or vise versa (I know, scary right?). The problem with this? We can't define ourselves folks. The truth is most of us don't even understand ourselves. God knows every hair on my head, but most of the time I can't even decide what I want in not only a man but on the hamburger staring at me from the Burger King menu.

Also, others can't define us because somehow their definition of who we are also falls short. Because we are the ones who project who we are to others, they can never truly see the real us. I may act like a "have-it-all-together" type who knows exactly what she wants out of life, but does that mean this is true? No. We pick and choose what to show the world about ourselves and paint our outer shells with only the acceptable, exciting colors. I may have shades of pale blue and icky brown in my personage but that is something you may never know because, unlike God, you cannot see the inner workings of my heart (Thank God! Who knows what demented Crayola colors are in there).

Though, because of the fall, we cannot walk around naked and feel completely defined and loved by God like we use to feel, I believe there is something that comes pretty close. Before I begin to explain what I am talking about, allow me to say this. Before leaving college and heading to Pig ville (aka: Lexington), a few of my hall mates and I (And the hall mates will remain nameless not only for their protection but for mine in case they read this.) went skinny dipping. (And I do promise there is a reason I am posting this on a public blog; I am not completely ridiculous.) It intimidated me at first, allowing my friends to see the complete picture of me--flaws and all. However, after a while, it became refreshing. There is something wonderful about shedding your outer skin of clothing and allowing those close to you to see everything, the good and the bad, and knowing that they accept you anyway. Being open about my flaws and knowing that there was someone standing beside me doing the same and loving me despite these unpleasant sections of skin was pretty phenomenal.

I began to wonder why we don't do this sort of thing more often. No, not why don't we skinny dip and shriek more, but why do we hide behind layers of labels and secrecy instead of being open about our screw-ups. It is very rare to see heart to hearts in the modern-day church outside of high school D*Now weekends. It's as if when we enter the adult world, being a screw-up is just simply not acceptable anymore. In high school youth groups, one sees people lifting up personal struggles; however, in adult Sunday school classes usually the prayer requests involve either remote people who are going through health problems or folks we feel we need to bless because of their pitiful state which is so "below" our own. Now, I am not saying that Erma's heart condition or the starving children in Africa are not important. What I am saying is that I think we have forgotten how to be honest about our sin. I believe it is time for us to go on a skinny dipping trip of the heart. What do you think?