Unmasked

She was sitting alone on her cot in the fellowship hall—Bible open on her lap. As we had worked that day, providing disaster relief following devastating tornadoes in Oklahoma, I noticed she was often alone then, too. Realizing she was the only woman who had come from her church, I wondered if she might be a little lonely. I left the group of women I had come with, including my grown daughter, and went over to strike up a conversation. I opened with what seemed like a simple question, “So, what are you studying?” Her response would profoundly impact me and still ripples to this day.

Raw Confession

She was doing a study on the book of Hosea. I wasn’t terribly familiar with this particular book at the time, but it is about a man that was asked by God to marry a prostitute—and to stay with her, even as she had numerous adulterous affairs. She would wander off, and he would keep taking her back. The parallels between her infidelity and Israel were apparent—how Israel kept chasing after the gods of other nations and how God kept taking her back. The parallels to our own idolatrous infidelity were apparent, as well. But what struck me was not this story in the Bible, but this woman on the cot.

She shared details of her past, including all the ways she had denied and run from God—all the tawdry details. Things I, honestly, would have kept safely behind my mask. She shared more about her background, how she had never known her father—he had left once he found out her mom was pregnant. Her mother blamed her for losing this man—the “love of her life.” She shared how her mother mistreated her and failed to love her well, so her grandparents raised her in Mexico. When she was twelve, her mother called for her to live with her in Topeka, KS—ripping her from the only home she had ever known. She shared how her mother still failed to love her well—leaving her desperate for love and acceptance. How she ended up pregnant as a teenager—and would have three boys by the time she was 19. How the father had left her—alone. And how, in a darkness she could not find her way out of—she had planned to end her life.

During this animated conversation, my daughter had made her way over to join us. By this time, both of us were in tears. I struggled to see why so much hurt could be allowed in one young life. My trials paled in comparison. Sitting there with my daughter, who at that time had two little boys of her own, I couldn’t help but feel thankful for the loving legacy of the family we had been blessed with. The other thing that struck me was this woman’s vulnerability. We had only just met, and she was sharing so deeply, peeling back the layers and laying it all out there for us to see. I come from a long line of mask-wearers. You didn’t air your “dirty laundry.” You put on a nice front and pretend that everything is wonderful. When people ask you how you are doing, you always say, “Fine!” or “Great!” I sometimes wonder if we feel as though true Christians shouldn’t struggle—as if admitting your life wasn’t perfect is like admitting you must not really be a Christian. But this woman was here before us, airing her “dirty laundry.” The next part of her story helped me understand why . . .

Beauty from Ashes

A coworker at the daycare she worked for always asked her to come to church with her. She had always declined, wondering how there could be a loving God if her life had been so hard. Luckily, this coworker was persistent—and God is good! He could use this, even this, for good. At the end of her rope, this young woman had decided to give this God a chance. After all, what could it hurt?

So, she accepted the invitation to go to church, and, they welcomed her with open arms. They invited her to participate in a life group, they prayed with her and for her, the pastor poured into her, and other believers began to walk with her . . . it was the beginning of her transformation. She received Christ, and she was made new!

Sitting here on a cot in a church basement, this woman shared the darkest parts of her life because only then could we really appreciate the light radiating from her as she spoke! I don’t know if I had ever met anyone who loved Jesus so much. She knew who she was and what she was before. And she knew what God had done for her—even when he knew her darkest secrets, too.

Powerful Lessons from a Humble Servant

And then there was the way she prayed! I hate to admit it, but we had a few rote prayers we would religiously say before meals and before bed—but I had never seen anyone pray with such emotion, depth, and insight. She didn’t say she would pray for me—she prayed for me! Grabbing my hands and praying, right out loud, with an intimacy and fervor that left me wishing I knew God that way. This woman didn’t have much in earthly wealth, but she had Jesus! And I found myself a little jealous . . . in a good way . . . in a way that left me hungry for more.

As we said our goodbyes, she asked if we could exchange phone numbers. I am ashamed to admit this, but a part of me thought she would just be asking for help with this or that. I didn’t know if it was a good idea, but I am so glad I said yes. It turns out the one that really needed help was me. We would start a morning prayer time that would last for years. We have both grown so much, strengthening our faith together—iron sharpening iron. Taking turns encouraging and lifting up the other as life took its twists and turns. While miles would separate us, there was a closeness that I have achieved with few others. We came from such different worlds; our skin color was different, our background was different, our families were different . . . but we both loved Jesus with all our hearts. And that’s the tie that binds.

Maybe most importantly, she has taught me the power of vulnerability. It is an admission of our inadequacy—that we are not enough without Christ. It opens the doors for true relationship. Who wants to air their “dirty laundry” with someone who looks like they have it all together? It is a testament to our surrender—that Jesus is not only our Savior but our Lord. It reveals the dead bones behind the white-washed tomb—so that people can actually witness the new life that springs forth! So, when God gives you the opportunity to let your light shine, don’t hide it under a bushel. Be vulnerable. The light shines so brightly against the darkness.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.

For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

2 Corinthians 12:9–10 NIV

“[B]ut I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?”

Romans 7:23–24 NIV

“But God demonstrates His own love toward us,

in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Romans 5:8 NKJV

“Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”

James 5:16 NIV

“And over all these virtues put on love,

which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

Colossians 3:14 NIV