The Truth Behind It

I work with a woman who picks up donuts for the employees in our office every Friday morning. When I first started working for this company a few years back, it was one of the perks I was very quickly made aware of. I mean, who doesn’t like donuts?! For many months, I enjoyed these delicious Friday morning carbs, unaware of where they actually came from. I work for a wonderful company that is abundantly generous. So, I had assumed the donuts were paid for by the company. I assumed wrong.

For who knows how many years, this woman has been picking up dozens of donuts every Friday morning and paying for them out of her own pocket… a choice she is making to bless her fellow employees. And no one is the wiser… (well, they may be now).

Let’s just say, for me, since finding out the truth behind where they are actually coming from, those Friday morning donuts taste a little better.

Does a small piece of truth really make a big difference?

Last night during our weekly worship service, multiple tears escaped my eyes. My sweet daughter looked at me with sympathetic eyes as she clutched my hand. You see, she knows me. She knows this has been a hard week for me. And she knows why because we have a very close relationship and I tell her these things. But even one who knows me best, was not aware of the reality behind my tears. Just as an onlooker in the row beside me could never have known, but could easily assume.

But the truth is, my tears weren’t because my heart is hurting, although it does. Or because my stress level is high, although it is. Or even because I just want Jesus to come and get us already, although I do.

My tears fell because I am afraid. Of this. This moment right here…

But no one could have known that because I have seemed only excited since I made the decision to blog. Writing has always been a joy to me and I have talked giddily about it. Because I am giddy. Therefore, the very real fear happening inside me over becoming vulnerable to the world had not been shared with anyone, not even my dear one. To her eyes, I just looked a little broken, and while that may have been truth in part, it was an incomplete truth.

Do we really know the truth behind it all? The majority of the time we don’t. Yet, most of the time, we assume we do. Maybe because we can see the donuts on the counter amidst the abundance of other snackage freely given. Maybe because someone shared limited knowledge and we accepted it as total truth. Maybe because we do not ask, because we do not feel the need to know, or we don’t care. So we presume to know.

We do that, don’t we…

But what if we didn’t?