Masks

Several thoughts occur to me at once as I look at this picture.

1.  I love that girl so much (it's my niece, Riley)

2.  She is super naughty

3.  I like my hair

4.  I have a lot of crows feet smile lines around my eyes

5.  I am good at wearing masks

This photo was taken the day that I posted that status about being a professional hermit.  My mind was an angry ocean of crashing waves full of thoughts of everything I needed to do.  My body was tense with being in a big crowd of people, most of whom I did not know.  And here it is, documented, that I was...smiling.  

Maybe it's because I knew my aunt was snapping the picture (shout out to Aunt Karen Youndt for photo credit!).  Or maybe it's because it's easier to lie about my well being with the expression on my face than it is to tell someone how I really truly feel.  Because that would be admitting that I don't have it all together.  That would make me look weak.  That would damage my pride.  Dang that pride.

Last winter I struggled against depression.  Not to the point that I felt I needed medicated (altho I certainly believe that has it's place!) but I knew I needed prayer.  The Lord ordained it so that after church, before Sunday School, during our coffee/fellowship time, I started talking with a woman I hold in the highest regard.  A woman so sweet she drips sugar wherever she goes. And not that fake kind of sweet like some people but real genuine, I-wanna-know-what's-going-on-with-you sweet.  A woman who hugs me each Sunday because one time we talked about how each of us has physical touch for our love language.  A woman with a southern accent (all you Weaverlanders know who she is now :) ), a contagious laugh, and a huge heart.

I shared my feelings of depression with her.  She cried with me and prayed for me.  In the weeks afterward I got a card from her in the mail and also several emails checking on how I was doing.  I felt so loved and blessed by this dear woman.  I would have forfeited those blessings if I'd kept my mask firmly in place and insisted I was fine.  

The moral of the story is this:  find somebody to drop your mask with.  Somebody you trust, somebody you know will love you no matter what, and, most importantly, somebody who will pray for you.

And for my closing thought:  I'm actually kind of happy for those crows feet smile lines.  Read this:  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-2272240/Smile-Crows-feet-make-look-clever-attractive.html