CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: FIVE DAYS OF BOTTLED CLAWS

We build shells. All of us. Tough exoskeletons designed to shield and protect. Some loud, flashy exteriors, filled with bravado, false confidence and foolish pride. Defences designed to distract and confuse… draw attention away from the great woundedness inside.

Some shells are dull, plain… camouflage almost. Designed to keep us hidden, imperceptible, to draw as little attention as possible in the hopes that no one will notice us. No one will hurt us.

Some are like armour. Hard, thorny – “keep out” signs. Angry and intentional about keeping others at arms length, or further. Don’t hurt me… I will hurt you first, because I’ve already been hurt more deeply than you would guess or could imagine.

And some of our shells are spit-shined and polished to look perfect, holy, spiritual – so very… together. Designed to hide our failings, our doubts, our questions, our frailties… our humanity.

The tidy and untidy, showy, subtle or off-putting ways we package up our hurt,
bottle our pain to keep it from being visible or exposed.

You see past all of these, God, don’t you?

You who created us, who calls each of us precious, child.
You see what it is we try so hard to conceal within our shells.
The soft, fleshy, tender parts kept hidden deep within that we guard so carefully, so diligently.
Hearts that have been broken, battered, disappointed, betrayed, torn apart, and beaten beyond recognition.
Hearts that question, doubt, fear, and struggle.

And you are not distracted. Not fooled. Not put off by our clever disguises, or repelled by our armour.
You see us.
The hidden, innermost parts of us.
Who we really are, where we really are, what we really feel.

Gentle Jesus… Prince of Peace, Good Shepherd, Healer.
Healer? Can there be healing?
Can you make right what feels wrong? Mend what is broken? Restore what’s been ruined? Redeem what seems lost?
Can you reach through our shells and make us whole?

Can we trust you? Hope in you?

Are you who you say you are?

Yes, Jesus, I believe it. It is the only thing that makes sense.

Unseen God – restore the parts of us that are unseen.

Let it be so.

Julia Beazley has been actively engaged in social justice issues around domestic poverty and homelessness for over a decade, in her hometown of Ottawa, Ontario and across the country – at every level, from direct street work to governmental advocacy. Julia is the full time Coordinator for StreetLevel: The National Roundtable on Poverty and Homelessness, and the point person for the work of its advocacy committee and the tri-annual national StreetLevel conferences. She has also served as Tim Huff’s part time assistant since 2005. Most of all, Julia is the proud mother of a wonderful little boy.

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