You’re sick, sick as all the
Secrets that you deny
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide
– Anberlin, “Reclusion”
Ask the majority of people if they consider themselves to be a “good” or “healthy” person and you’ll likely get the answer “yes”. Many of us like to think of ourselves in the best light, handing ourselves unlimited grace when we fall, yet withholding it from others when they hurt us. We like to think of others as broken, all while we feel that we have life under control.
Before we get too far along, please know that not all brokenness is “sin” or “evil”. Just because you’re depressed doesn’t mean that it’s a sin. The scars you wear from being abused in your childhood don’t make you evil. We all carry skeletons within our lives, whether evil or brokenness that we hide from others, for fear that we’ll be alone.
In the information age, we like to send messages through social media and our “platforms” that we’ve got our act together, even when our worlds are falling apart. When you open Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter, it’s rare to find a picture of someone at their worst. You’ll rarely see a selfie of someone crying after their heart was broken. It’s not often that we like to tweet “I just lied to someone I cared about and it destroyed them.” We just don’t like to share those parts of our lives.
When you look in the mirror, can you really say that you have it all-together?
Let’s be honest with one another, shall we? We all have our skeletons that we hide, fearful that the truth will get out. We cover it with religion, beauty, wealth, and education, desperate for the applause and admiration of those around us. The imposter within us longs to be admired and acknowledged, not seen for who we truly are: broken, messy, and fragile souls in need of healing.
I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t admit that I have a closet full of skeletons. In fact, it’s more like a personal graveyard. Whether it has been the sins I’ve committed or the brokenness in my battle with a mental disorder, I don’t want others to see certain parts of me.
Most of you know that I have wrestled with an anxiety disorder for most of my life. It’s not a sinful or evil part within me, but it is a skeleton I often hide. When I first was officially diagnosed with “severe OCD”, I was petrified that everyone would see me as crazy and psycho if they found out that I had a mental illness. No matter how hard I fought or how deep I would bury it, that skeleton would always rise again to haunt me. I was drinking the poison of my own pain, becoming more sick and troubled than I had ever been in my life, all while I wore a twisted smile on the outside. Healing didn’t come from hiding my brokenness, but rather from exposing my skeletons to people who cared and who knew how to help me.
In addition to my battle with a mental disorder, I have a war against a very sick and twisted imposter living inside of me who has a devilish temper, a lustful heart, and a selfish desire to be my own god. I’m not good. If you think I am, then I deserve an Oscar (and yes, I’ll take it if offered).
I’m neither good or healthy on my own, but that’s where this gets interesting.
In the Scriptures, Isaiah writes about the coming Messiah and the sacrifice that will be made for the sins of humanity:
“All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” – Isaiah 53:6 ESV
We live in a fallen world due to humanity’s rebellion against God. Once death entered the world, so did sin, evil, sickness, decay, and heartache. Redemption and restoration were too great a price that we could never repay…Yet Jesus…
Jesus took all our sin, our heartache, our death, our pain, and our brokenness upon himself when he died a bloody death on the cross. There’s someone who sees the deepest, darkest parts of you, yet not only did he stay, but he died for you…Fascinating…
We don’t need to hide. There is a God who knows us even deeper than we know ourselves. There are people who want to help you with the brokenness you carry. You are not alone, you are not invisible, and you are not a lost cause.
What skeletons are you hiding? What sins are weighing you down with shame? What brokenness do you carry alone?
It’s time to come clean.