people are silly

I stumbled upon something earlier in my usual way, by rambling about my philosophies on life and people.  I do this often, with no real sense of direction or foundation; later, I'll take the time to actually think about what I said and realize that it was maybe not so crazy after all, though probably a little rough on the delivery.  Tonight it was a remark about how beautiful it would be if everyone everywhere got up and pointed out each other's faults.  Not in an accusatory way, but more in an acknowledging sort of way.  When asked why I felt that way, I responded that we would no longer waste all of our energy pretending to have it all together.  Of course I wasn't actually thinking about what that really meant when I said it.  But seriously, wouldn't that rock?  I know I am far too concerned with appearances, and the upkeep on those things is ridiculous.  But if someone were to come around and utterly destroy that thing I put on display for everyone else, I would be freed up to do so much more with my life.  If I didn't have to put so much time into creating and maintaining this image that people see, I could spend more time learning how to love people as Christ loved them.  That sounds so ironic as I read it back to myself.  If I didn't have to?  Who's making me?  We are slaves to our appearances.  I like to think that I'm a fairly free and authentic person most of the time, but I think I'm often just fooling myself.  Like an image of the image I've created for myself (Inception reminiscent?  Of course.  A dream within a dream...).  I'm vain and hypocritical and proud; I spend all my time writing about how I should live and love, instead of actually living and loving it out; I get road rage sometimes.  Well, Sarah, you've admitted that you have problems, that's something, right?  No, really, it isn't.  So I've maybe ripped off the band-aid that covered the wound.  But I could spend my whole life staring at the cut and waiting for it to scab up and then for it to become a scar.  It won't happen though, because it's a wound that I'm constantly inflicting on myself.  I've got to do more, be more proactive.  Or, really, I've got to let God do the work in me.  It takes dying to myself every day, and it takes depending on Christ to give me my identity, to grow me into the woman He created me to be.  "He must increase, but I must decrease." John 3:30