I wish I could make myself invisible.
Not all the time. Not even for long.
Just on those days when the unbridled, sin-riddled old Adam is escaping out of my mouth, mind and soul through destructive, negative, feel-sorry-for-me, angry words, thoughts and actions. Rolling eyes and slamming doors. Gritting teeth and profanity tumbling out. Resentment building up like plaque on unbrushed teeth.
It feels dirty, ugly.
Today I want to be invisible.
Today I feel entangled in myself like knotted hair that doesn’t want to brush out. Like the second drawer in the kitchen that’s full of mismatched utensils and devoid of order. I can’t make sense of it all. I can’t make sense of me. Just a whole lot of noise as I rummage around, not even sure what I’m looking for.
I want out. Out of my skin. Out of my head. Away from the person I don’t want to be but the person I can’t help being.
But I am bound.
Bound by my expectations of who God has made me. A wife. A mother. A daughter. A friend.
These incredible gifts. They seem too heavy. Too much responsibility. Too much giving of myself. Too demanding.
Connections I can’t sever. Knots I can’t untie.
I am ungrateful today.
I come to the end of myself as I throw scattered toys into the box, desperately murmuring for God to make me invisible.
I didn’t expect anything to.
But as the day wears on I hear myself say compassionate words. Understanding words. Kind words.
My heart softens. Opens. Clears.
And then I see it.
It’s not me speaking at all.
God HAS made me invisible.
He has drowned me.