sticks, stones, and words.

i know i so seldom update here that it's almost laughable to even keep it online, but here i am. every so often, i get an urge to bare some part of myself to the internet. i guess it's the urge of a person who really bares very little to anyone, to feel like what i think does matter.

the thing about keeping things close inside is that when someone attacks your self or your opinions, you're pretty much left with no defense unless you want to become even more vulnerable than you were before. at least, that's been my experience. and usually, i prefer to let them think they're right about me, rather than reveal the reality that they're wrong about me. because that's the thing about revealing. then they know more about you, and what if, next time, they use that new knowledge to attack in a new and more hurtful way.

of course, there are those who would argue that if you keep yourself closed for fear of being ripped apart, then you will miss the beauty of life. the beauty of vulnerability.

i have argued that before, actually. and i think that i do believe it sometimes. i look at myself and i realize that by keeping to myself, i am missing something spontaneous about the world.

sticks and stones and words and what not. words do hurt. having been the one to hurt others with my words, and having been on the receiving end of the words-like-swords, i know that i really would prefer those sticks and stones being thrown at me. slap on a band-aid, and i'll be fine. words live on forever in the mind, reappearing in moments of insecurity, to remind me that i'm not that good. not that pretty. not that nice.

so, here i am, as usual, considering the pros and cons of being vulnerable and open, as compared to the safety, but relative solitude of remaining closed.

in the end, jesus does say that he intercedes on my behalf before the father, so that i may not be condemned by those words thrown at me, so i do eventually find rest in the knowledge that he is telling my father that these accusations - imagined by myself or brought up by others with a heart not full of kindness - aren't true.