If we would be honest with ourselves we must first be honest with each other. This is the humble way of sincerity: we cannot lie to others and keep our own well clean.
The art of confession has suffered much by the hand of irony. That is what they call our generation: the ironic ones. We are the artful dodgers-hoping to hold integrity in one hand while holding a shield of irony. And this is tired. Are you tired?
Do you wish you had the courage to look a God-image-bearing creature in the eyes and whisper honesty? I think you do. And I think your heart yearns to tell others-the ones you trust with your gut, what you feel, fear, and fall to in the moonless night.
I recently had this gift, this sweet mercy-a treasure that is worth more than man can forge. It was a friend, a brother, who spoke in the evening hours of honesty. He spoke courageously, and offered that we- the ones who share the same cupboards, could be honest with each other.
And the words watered our souls. They gave permission for us to call darkness black and light: gold as a beautiful harvest.
I want this honesty for you and for us. Our bones ache to be simple with each other. Will you be wonderfully, gloriously simple today? Will you leave irony at home and speak words that come from your toes?
Remember this: our hearts cannot serve light and tell others half-truths.
Will you be simple today?