An extraordinary spoken-word poet, Karen Thompson, once told me that I was a good writer, but as I performed, my poetry flowed from the head, not the heart. The words stung, but I got it and I'm still getting it.
Karen is the leader of the Speakout, a poetry group in Denver, and she is loving and straightforward. In simple words, she showed what we all must learn in life -- that authenticity is the golden key for genuine conversation and the currency for lasting relationships.
Her words intially were hard to hear because of the mask I cultivated as a journalist. Journalists are taught to focus on others, and to step away from themselves so as not to color a story with our opinions. This is an ethical aim when it comes to fairly conveying a fair news story, but it's a lousy way to cultivate a well-rounded life.
My natural reticence since childhood to share too much about my private life didn't help. While I don't advocate reckless sharing of inner secrets -- trusted friends are in place for that -- my church, Colorado Christian Fellowship, trained me to strive to for emotional accessibility when I interact with others. CCF, and specifically, my care group leader, the elegant-in-powerful-love Betty Rice, encouraged me to follow God's lead and go deeper, to face the hidden, broken places, the places that get patched up, but never healed. God wants better for me (and you). He wants me clear-headed, flat-footed, ready to share the truths I've learned, and armed with the force of his love and acceptance. His friendship, his cleansing, his peace, empower me to be present in every relationship, for God is never about hiding from the pain.
Thinking I knew all this because I had seen personal growth -- I was surprised, painfully so, when I did not share my heart when speaking this weekend at my girlfriend Cynthia's birthday party in Dallas. It was a milestone year for her and her husband, Leroy, did it up. He asked me to speak, along with other precious friends of hers, and I choked.
I could barely sleep that night. Memories haunted me. Cynthia walked with me during some of the darkest emotional nights of my life when I was single. She and her husband were a loving couple who knew how to befriend and encourage single people while displaying the beauty of married love in Christ Jesus. Cynthia was patient, wise. She didn't point fingers, quote cliches and condescend as the wife taking pity on the never-married woman. She tutored me for marriage. And when I did marry last year (to a powerful truth-teller, no doubt!), she was there again, supportive and excited about what God had done, just as he said would.
Why I choked at the party and failed to detail those times of sitting at her table, chattering away and eating her mushroom rice like I'd never had a meal before or eating her cinammon rolls like they were manna, still stumps me.
But I will move past it. One day I probably will write about how Cynthia mentored me to always believe the best is yet to come. One day I will write about her as the friend I love! For now, may I not neglect to practice the God-lessons Karen, Betty and CCF taught me about transparency, lest I neglect to drink fully of transparency's infinite grace.
Judy Howard Ellis
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