She is really Brilliant!

So, have you ever had someone in your life that you liked and enjoyed spending time with, and then suddenly, who knows why, maybe because they enjoy spending time with you too, they decide to open up and share a piece of themselves that reveals exponential layers of depth, complexity, and profound beauty?

Maybe it's the kind of experience the Bible, or at least some guy, was referring to when he described scales falling from your eyes? It's like the transition from radio to television, or B&W to Technicolor, or color to HDTV; each move quickens your imagination and breaks down boundaries of what seems possible in the world.

This is what I loved about theological spaces. People regularly unzip and share their vulnerabilities, pain, discouragements, and triumphs with you. Certainly, it's not all that you get to see, but people are more able to interact with you from the fullness of their humanity; limitations included. They bring with them the scary/hard places that people try to ignore or cover up, resulting in their feeling isolated and confused.

I remember that the metaphor I used to use for myself was deciding to take the terrifying step of taking my arm from behind my back to show someone that I was maimed and horribly disfigured. So much so that I couldn't simply cover it with a glove, but needed to hide that piece of me to convince people that I was acceptable, desirable, and that it was safe to be close to me; because whether they wanted to be close to me or not, I desperately needed to be close to them. Isolation in your soul is a slow death.

There is always the fear of watching someone flinch, or move away, or involuntarily non-verbally communicate some form of disgust. So, I learned to walk and move with that hand obscured. I stuck it in my back pocket, or put it under my coat- resting squarely on my back.

And, when you hide your vulnerabilities and the disfigured parts of your soul, there are ways that you can learn to move and navigate your way through the world so that what people see is mysterious and intriguing, or looks like hyper competence, or, believe it or not, incredibly attractive.

People will try to emulate your gangsta-stroll with that hand resting on your back. Little do they know that they are emulating your response to pain. It's strange to see it play out, but anyone who has ever heard, "You are so damn cool!" on a regular basis can attest to the fact that unbeknownst to them, it's your pain that people are so enamored with. You're telling me that I have beautiful scars, because that's what they are.

So, in theological spaces I get to bring that arm out and people contend with the whole of me.

(Which I'm just deciding right now is actually more miraculous than having full function and total restoration to my being- although it certainly remains what every person strives for, learning to live in a community where my participation and acceptance aren't contingent upon presenting perfection is attainable. Being embraced as a full human being even while my flaws and limitations are visible is the miracle that I've experienced and offered here on earth.)

Time after time I would pull out my arm, trembling inside with uncertainty and terror, only to have it caressed by someone who would eventually roll up their pant leg, or push up their sleeve, to show me where they hurt and how they covered it up. They would tell me where they had given up on themselves, because they had given up on the possibility of being fully loved and accepted by anyone else.

So, it happened today with someone who showed me herself in a way that enabled me to catch a glimpse of the way that she radiates beauty.

Although I had seen her regularly for years, I had never seen the brilliance of her beauty like I did today.

My brain, deciding to shut itself down to the possibilities of humanity, wants to pin it on the fact that she is theological. But, the reality beyond my hopelessness is that it is because she decided that it was safe to be vulnerable.

We are all that beautiful.