My husband and I faithfully watch The Voice every Monday and Tuesday night and while I miss Adam Levine who left at the end of last season, I enjoy Blake Shelton, the country singer who is one of the other four judges. Every so often he says of one of the contestants, in his best southern accent, “he’s the real deal”, meaning he’s (or she) not trying to be someone he’s not.
He’s authentic. Children are authentic. They don’t think about how they feel; they just do. They don’t think of the consequences of flying off the handle or crying well beyond the alleviation of pain, they just run out of sound.
Adults learn to manipulate and control their feelings, they learn to edit their emotions, how they appear to others, how they carry themselves and ultimately how to be what someone else needs them to be.
There is a fine line between learning to cope with not getting your way and losing your identity in the midst of pleasing others. There’s also a not so fine line between telling it like it is and being kind and knowing when to be quiet.
Close friends can tell you the truth and still remain confidants and others just spill and walk away. Best friends share time and truth and distant ones share only silence.
The marriages we enter into, develop well after a lifetime of sharing the good, the bad and the ugly with parents, classmates or besties so lots of details and inside jokes are missing from their point of view. What they know of you is made up entirely of what you tell them and what they learn from you. What you fill them in on depends greatly on the trust available from them and the vulnerability made accessible to them.
The one you’ve chosen to spend the rest of your life with, ought to become the single one person who knows you best. I don’t think it requires regurgitated knowledge of every detail of your life, but it does require trust; on your part and theirs. Trust to be able to share the inner most fears & dread. Trust to be able to laugh until you pee your pants and not be embarrassed. Trust to know that they’ll stick around when the goals have changed, jobs are won and lost and when grief causes you to ugly cry.
A child is the Real deal. There is no capacity for fakeness, no ability to be someone outside of what is innate. A child loves and loves deep and without condition. He cries tears of real pain and disappointment and shrieks loud unabashed squeals of delight. She trusts implicitly.
This Christmas season, I pray you love like a child again, give the gift of your true, authentic self to someone who deserves it and trust the Savior who gave you that ability.
Faithfully,
Elaine
