This past weekend I have spent a lot of time with renovations. After almost 10 years, it’s time to update and reclaim my bedroom. And while I was painting my room I listened to the CD “What if We Were Real” by Mandisa.
Here I was listening to the call to be real, and at the same time I was painting the walls… And painting the walls got me thinking… This picture of painting somehow symbolized the act of covering up. I was covering up what was on the wall. I was putting on a new coat of paint on something that I didn’t like.
There were many marks on the walls, lots of wear & tear. I had filled the holes and sanded them down, put primer on it. And now I was covering it all with paint. Once the paint would dry, it would look really nice. And no one except me would know what’s underneath that coat of paint. Nobody would know what I’ve covered up with paint in that room.
And I had to think about myself. The real me. What do I cover up? What is it that I don’t want people to see? What is it that I don’t want people to know about me?
The quality of paint and make-up these days have improved a lot. The promises of perfect cover up can be seen everywhere. There is a lot of picture editing software out there. Imperfections are not cool…
The thing with cover up is that it doesn’t last. The make-up crackles and/or comes off as the day goes on. The coat of paint only lasts for a while. It wears off, too. Even the new coat of paint will show wear & tear in a few weeks/months, depending on how I treat it, right?
The same goes for real life. A cover up will only last so long. Eventually the real me surfaces… And if I desire real change, it has to start on the inside, on the real me, the one that I know so well, but not necessarily like so much… So what if I/we were real?