Behind Those Eyes -- An Open Letter

Dear Lisa,

I've thoroughly enjoyed getting to know your little girl this last month or so. You were so right when you wrote how beautiful she is! (For those reading this open letter, the little girl is Lisa Whittle's newest book Behind the Eyes.)

Thank you for unmasking, as you put it, the "great charade of womanhood." Your honesty helped me look at the places where I pretend rather than risk being real.

Can I share with you a few of the things that touched me?

First, I love how you write from your heart. While you share that you recognize "Ms. Confidence" in yourself, you also take risks and are vulnerable. I know that you may not meet many of your readers until heaven, I think it still takes courage to put your soft spots out there in such a public way.

Second, I identify with some facet of each of the personification you put forth.

• I am a perfectionist at heart. I demand it of myself and always have. When I was in undergrad, I was disappointed with a 3.86 GPA. In grad school, I managed the 4.0, but found that even that didn't satisfy. You see, I fell short. There was a special test at the end and the top 5 would graduate with "honors." (As if the privilege of getting such a great education wasn't honor enough, I was dismayed to be only in the top 7.) I write that only to say that I am a harsh task master with myself. While I wouldn't say it so boldly, at times it spills into my relationships and the standards I set there.


• Ms. Confidence is a face I also wear. While I may often be the "soft one" in relationships, I do not have many close friends. For most of the world, I quietly pretend that I have it all in hand. I keep people locked out.


• I cannot say that I exude Ms. Happiness, but I do recognize parts of her. I cannot let someone know that something is wrong. If I do, I do so apologetically. "Yes, this awful, horrible thing just happened but it really isn't so bad and I'm really okay and I'm sorry to bother you with it and I'll just let you go now."


• Ms. Spirituality -- yes, I know her too. I loved the years I spent in ministry. But at times, I confess, I may drop that bit of information as a means to impress. "Yes, 11 years serving God in full time ministry . . . ." It's not every time, but some times Ms. Spirituality is behind it. Perhaps it is even in sharing obscure Bible trivia. Yes, we are to know scripture but the reason behind it is not to impress!

Third, thank you for giving voice to the feelings we conceal. I resonated so with that chapter that I read it twice! Loneliness and jealousy are my biggest vices. Loneliness drives me to look at everyone else and say, "Why didn't they invite me?" My jealously is largely relational. I struggle to simply be happy when someone is able to steal away some time with another friend. I recognize it as a barrier to relationships. It adds enough weight to what should be a buoyant relationship to sink the ship. But I am working on it and growing. Thanks so much for sharing about your friendship! It sounds special indeed.

Lastly, thanks for sharing the "real deal." I love the way you reveal God's heart in those last chapters. I love what your wrote: "God already know that He accepts us just as we are . . . with all of our failures and faults and insecurities, but He was us to know that -- really know that." I pray that what God is doing through you will cement that more firmly for every woman who reads your book.

Thank you for sharing the truth. It does, indeed, set us free.

Notes to Myself

I've been in the midst of some conflict lately. As with most things, it seems like it comes in waves. Today, I am meeting with a friend to try and sort out the mess of the last couple of months.Sigh. I both want to meet, think we need to meet, and dread it. Part of the problem is that I think we both know how to push the other's buttons. So, I need to choose not to allow those buttons to get activated.

A little over a year ago, I was in a conflict with someone else. We met with a neutral third party to work it out. I wrote notes to myself on index cards. Some were just a sentence or two about an issue that needed to be addressed, a prompt for myself to keep me on track. I find that sometimes in conflict I can chase rabbit trails.

Every 2-3 cards I had something totally different written on a card. It had nothing to do with the conflict at hand. It had everything to do with me. Here is some of what I wrote:

• Listen. Really listen.
• You DO NOT have to be right.
• Speak in love, not anger
• Listen with your heart

I think the other person was a bit put off that I had come with a stack of note cards. I think they thought that all the cards were issues I had with them. No, they were reminders for myself.

I've made a few notes to myself again. Hopefully, when I feel myself getting pulled in, digging my heels in and wanting to win, I can glance at a note and be reminded of a better way to respond

If I Had Only Known

Sometimes, others have already said it so much better than we ever could that it seems necessary to borrow their words. Carolyn Arends is a Christian singer/song writer. This song sums up the end of things with Bill for me. Here is a snippet of it:

If I had known only known

That you'd be leaving here so soon

I would not have been so flippant

When I offered you the moon.

I would pull my chair up closer

To the railing of your bed

Chosen much more carefully

The words I said

I would ask you for your stories

I would tell you mine

I would give you much more credit

I would take more of your time

There's so much I left unspoken

If you were here right now

Oh, I would love you out loud

Carolyn Arends

Love You Out Loud

Album: This Much I Understand

If I had only known:

• I would have held your hand more often
• I would have called you more just to say "Hello" even if we would be seeing each other in just a few hours.
• I would have laughed when you tried to tame my crazy kitty Katy into coming to you no matter how late it made us for dinner
• I would have pressed to meet your family sooner
• I would have let you help me with more things instead of trying to be independent
• I would have snuggled more
• I would have told you more about my thoughts and feelings. Oh, it wasn't that you didn't it ask but just that I am not a natural talker.
• I would have made you more cookies and peanut butter pie.

If I had only known that you'd be leaving here so soon, I would not have been so shy. I would have loved you out loud.

If you were here right now:

• I'd let you help with flowers for the yard
• I'd actually cook for you
• I'd tell you how hard it was to have you go so suddenly
• I'd laugh with you about Mali's antics. She would have you wrapped around that tiny paw.
• I'd let you comfort me on some of the strange turns my life has taken
• I'd tell you about the book I hope to write
• I'd drive you crazy holding your hand
• I'd laugh more
• I'd smile more
• I'd be the one to try and sneak the kiss
• I'd count every second as a treasure

And, yes, I would love you out loud . . . .

---

Bill died April 23, 2007 from an aortic aneurysm. We had met at church. Our first date almost turned into a group outing. I was standing with Emily when he approached me and asked about a concert in Peoria that night. Assuming he meant a group outing, I turned to Emily and asked her if that sounded like fun. He graciously said that more people would be fine. But Emily caught on more quickly than I did and she declined.

When he picked me up he noticed that I didn't put the garage door down. I explained that it was broken and I had no clue what to do with it. The next day he came by to fix it for me. I was making cookies, so he stayed for some . . . .

He fixed that sill garage door 3 times! Third time was the charm. It hasn't broken since.

But I suppose instead, it's my heart that got broken to have him leave so suddenly. It's been a year and I still remember. It's been a year that was really hard in places, but my heart is healing. I'm making it through.

Bill brought me laughter and a feeling of connection that before I had only ever dreamed could happen. Without Bill I might have given up that the connection even really existed. While it hurt to say a sudden "Goodbye," there is hope in knowing that mystical connection is fact not fiction and even I can dare to reach out for it.