hidden

Here I am at 0'dark:30 in the morning. My back is super sore making sleep flee from me. Even the spot on my leg where I was kicked by that cow last April hurts. Just goes to show how deep wounds take way longer to heal than we ever first imagine. Makes me think of other wounds I have sustained or inflicted through the years. Not physical wounds so much but emotional wounds. A wounded spirit. How long do they take to heal? Ok nuf bout that cause I came here to talk about something near and dear to my heart. Magic Covers!

Magic covers, we all know what they are. That strange phenomenom of feeling safe from all sorts of imagined monsters when hidden under the blankets of our bed is wide spread, perhaps even universal. I have stayed safe for 52 years now using this method so I can say with much confidence it is tried and true. All children know the benefits of even a light covering. What is it about being covered that makes us feel safe?

Of course it could be supposed this feeling might begin even before birth when we are hidden and wrapped in our mothers womb, or it might start immediately after being born, swaddled tightly in that safest place, her arms. Perhaps it begins a few months later when we attach to that lovey, you know the one, the tattered dingy blanket or stuffed toy that has to be located or the toddler can not go to bed. Think Linus. I am not sure, but somewhere between the beginning of my life and my earliest memory being covered has given me the feeling of being sheltered. Secure. Snug. Safe.

I wonder as we grow up if life's lessons give us other reasons why we reach for covers. Unloving things said, cruel jokes being played, discovering you can't keep up, don't measure up, aren't smart enough, or talented enough, or pretty enough. Life has a way of showing us that it is not ok to be uncovered. Being uncovered makes a person vulnerable. And being vulnerable makes you a target. See, somehow I'm right back to woundedness.

I have spent a good portion of my adult life covering up. I have, and sometimes still do, lie, making myself look better than I really am. My heart gets hurt by other's words or actions and I pretend it doesn't matter, I am a great pretender. I apologize for things I didn't do, then often feel secret anger or resentment, frustration and even bitterness. Some days I paste on a mask with a permanent smile glued to it so I can hide my days struggles. It's all so exhausting. And in the end I don't feel safe, or secure, or sheltered. I just want to be loved and accepted, but there are those parts of me that are, let's just be clear here, less than enchanting. I need me some magic covers that really work.

Cue Jesus. Cue, a signal to act.