Naked

naked

i was reflecting on the events of this past week and was trying to put a finger on how i feel about my behavior, my reactions.  i am not proud of myself, have a great deal of remorse, and really feel, well…naked. Not the good naked, where you love the skin you’re in, prance around, check yourself out in the mirror, run your hands over your body, or present yourself confidently to someone, but that ashamed, trying unsuccessfully to cover yourself with a washcloth, please don’t look at me and all my flaws, expelled from the Garden of Eden, self-conscious nakedness. It’s having the dark, ugly parts of your soul revealed, trying to shove it back into the space it resided, wishing no one had seen these nether regions–but they did. The tape plays it over like an echo inside your head days later.

i feel more naked in front of Maximus now, 150 miles away, than i ever have; more naked than being tied spread-eagle on His bed, more naked than bound and gagged and blindfolded by Him, more naked than taking my clothes off in front of a group of friends and strangers. i’m comfortable in my skin. i’m uncomfortable in my loss of emotional control. Uncovered. It makes me awkward, tripping over myself to make it all right, over-analytical. i’m impatient for the embarrassment of being seen naked to resolve. Wanting the effects of time, distance, and shielding to lend their protective qualities, much like they lessen the effects of exposure to radioactive materials. And they will.

So i will work on not replaying the tape, quieting the echo. Take solace in the fact that Maximus did not expel me from the Garden of His love, that He loves me despite my ugly nakedness, and helps me learn from this event. i have to be patient as He, too, recovers from what He saw and experienced.

i will be patient,

i will be patient,

breathe.

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