Wine Moment: Fully Seen

I can go anywhere and be stared at without feeling irritated.

Being stared at all the time comes in handy when
teaching, however, because you never have to worry
about the kids not paying attention. Except that one kid.

While that may not seem like much of a success, it is.  Up until recently I was always, on some level, bothered by the way that people shamelessly watch me as if my pants are on fire while I walk down the street.  Armenians in this community rarely see foreigners, so when they do, they feast their eyes upon a glorious new treat.  People actually stop their cars and open their doors to steal a better glance at me.

But the discomfort I had to press through to get to this feeling of acceptance had nothing to do with their stares.  It had everything to do with exploring the reason it made me uncomfortable in the first place. 

Why would I ever feel physical tension build and want to run and hide when someone just looks at me, however intensely, for several minutes?

The innocuous spectators are not the problem –  I am.  My discomfort arose from a fear of being truly seen, or feeling truly known.  And unwanted attention, because it falls outside our control, causes us to scramble for some feeble attempt to regain control by physically or emotionally guarding ourselves from the perpetrator.  

But never more.  Ever since the moment I realized the true source of my tension, I’ve been able to work on surrendering it and dwelling in the acceptance of who I am.  What do I care if a person sees who I really am (often gross, sloppy, covered in dog hair)? God sees who I really am, and he tells me there’s no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus. 

That’s good enough for me.