"Well, how about a whole day of play and laughing? Can I have that?" I request.
"Um, maybe..." He replies while waving the wand over my head. His eyes are shut tight in concentration. "Nope. It's not working. What you wish now, Mom?"
"Clean house?" (Wand waves. Eyes squeeze shut...)
"Um, maybe..." The game continues on like this.
"Hey, Ian, " I say on my turn, "What do you wish?" I take the starred stick in my hand and wait for his answer. It remains constant as the light in his eyes.
"I wish you come true!!!!"
"You mean you wish for my wishes to come true? That's sweet. Thanks, Ian."
"No, mom. Not that. I wish YOU come TRUE. And Mia true. And Abi true. And Ben true. Everybody true."
True: being in accordance with the actual state or conditions;conforming to reality or fact; not false. real; genuine; authentic; sincere; firm in allegiance; loyal; faithful; steadfast being or reflecting the essential or genuine character of something.
In essence, I wish for you to be real. Honest. Be, authentically, exactly who you were made to be. I wish for you to stop hiding behind what was done or left undone. Do not shrink behind false smiles or empty gestures. Stop reflecting worry, busyness, piety, self-importance or martyrdom. I wish for you to reflect the genuine character of Christ.
Here's the thing. In order for something to be reflected, it has to be present with the reflector. I cannot see my reflection in the bathroom mirror if I am sitting on the living room couch. A mirror will not reflect a flash light if it is turned off. To cast the light of Christ on the world around us we must understand and respond to the incredible reality that he is in fact WITH us.
Wherever we are, whatever mess or monotony we are standing in; the risen Christ is with us. Praise the Lord. G. K. Chesterton was once asked what he would do if Jesus as standing with him at this moment. He simply replied, "He is." That is the wonder of the incarnation. That is the miracle of Easter. And that is the truth that makes it possible for us to "come true."
When I was in seminary, I had this habit of cleaning our postage stamp sized apartment until it sparkled. I was almost obsessive about it. I bleached the floors. I dusted--a lot. I arranged blankets perfectly and dosed them with febreze to hide the stains on the love seat. I had a toothbrush just for scrubbing the track for the door on the shower. Those of you who know me now will find this VERY hard to believe. Weird, but true. I wanted everything to be clean and prefect of anyone were to come over, or stop by. I needed it to be ready.
The reality of our life in Wilmore was far from spotless. Fun, busy, life changing, soul-forming: yes. Spotless: no. The week of my graduation I had papers and presentations and interviews and moving plans, and good-byes and everything whirling around me. Despite family coming in from everywhere, I could not keep up the charade of spotlessness. I meant to. I just literally ran out of minutes and energy. I was ashamed, mortified really, that my family would find the disaster. With five minutes before the first guests were to arrive, I closed the heavy front door and put a pretty hand written sign on the exterior.
"I am glad you are here. Please, meet me outside."
I had to take care of something after that, I can't remember what. When I came back no family was to be found in the yard. I thought I'd take the minute and see what part of the mess I might tackle, or hide. I pushed the door open and found the mess CLEAN.
I collapsed into the chair. (I could see the upholstery now.) At first I was embarrassed. What would they say.. What must they think? Then I felt guilty. They traveled for hours Why should they have to clean my mess? Then I was grateful. Grateful that I did not have to hide behind the facade of fastidiousness. Grateful, that neither a massive mess, nor an inauthentic shrine to the ways of the fly lady could stop my loved ones from wanting to be present with me in those moments.
Maybe I am over-simplistic. Maybe all the bleach fumes went to my head. But I think I started to learn something on that graduation day. When I close the door on my heart and say to the One that I worship: "I'm so glad you are here. Please meat me outside. This is all to messy now and you deserve better." He is not content with that. When I run myself ragged to make my heart and life presentable by own power. He is not not content with that either. He wants to be truly present, with me, removing all obstacles to that authentic relationship so that I may actually reflect the Light.
I pray that we all may "come true" in the Light of the Risen Lord.
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