When there’s no place to hide

At the risk of causing a popular Disney song to be stuck in your head for months, I have to say this:

“Conceal. Don’t feel. Don’t let them know.”

Of course, the movie Frozen is popular in our house. We have a 7-year-old daughter, and while “Let It Go” is overplayed and overused, its words are rich in meaning and application for life. This particular line, if you’re one of the seven people on the planet who haven’t seen the movie, stems from a girl’s years of protecting herself from her sister and the world at large so she doesn’t hurt anyone with her powers. She hides herself away until it’s unavoidable, and then, she gives in to the power, further shutting people out of her life. When she finally “lets it go,” she’s a destructive version of herself.

Fortunately for her, her sister is relentless in pursuing her and loving her, and it all ends well.

This story reminds me of myself sometimes, how easy it is for me to hide myself from others when I don’t want to hurt them, how I want to give in to the destructive nature inside of me and further push people away, especially if I feel I’ve been hurt or isolated or rejected.

spooky trees

But there is hope for those who want to hide.

“My poop stinks, too.”

We were having one of those conversations that happen when you’re living communally for a few weeks with people you aren’t related to. Bathroom habits become public knowledge when you’re sharing dorm-like bathrooms. My husband and I were in Kenya for 10 days this summer with a team of 15 from our church, and the bathroom arrangements were some of the most anxiety-inducing of the entire trip. I am not comfortable sharing bathrooms. I’m often embarrassed by the necessary work that takes place inside the stall. And I don’t like talking about it.

Read the rest over at Putting on the New, where I blog on the 12th of every month.