What Is A Trichoplax?

A Trichoplax is one of the simplest organisms you can find. It has no discernible organs or structure, and is basically a flat blob of tissue that moves around. Is it alive? I don't know. But I thought I'd ruminate on other conundrums in this space.

I Agree

A Strange Thing Happened to Me

Last night my wife and I went before the session of elders in our church to seek their endorsement for our application to seminary. They asked us both to share our testimony and to share our calling to ministry. I had a few thoughts about the whole thing.

About an hour before we left to go, Megan reminded me that I needed to dress up a little to look presentable. To be honest, this irritated me, and not because of Megan but because of the pretense behind it all. We were about to go before some imposing men and women, people who were CEO's, judges, doctors, and so on. People whom I'd met in church and knew vaguely, but really only knew that they were in positions of leadership. Before these people I was going to share my life and my calling, two very deep parts of my soul. When I share on these things I share all with no shame and with complete nakedness. So I felt a little annoyed that I had to "dress up" when I was about to "get naked" in front of intimidating people who I really didn't know well. I really felt on some sub-conscious level that if I couldn't wear jeans and a t-shirt in front of these people for fear of not looking "presentable", how could I pour out my soul with the blights and mistakes that marred its history?

Well, I got over myself. I reassured myself that even if I felt that way, the people I was soon to be talking with probably didn't. And Megan reminded me that when I am giving a speech, or going for a job interview, I try and look presentable then too. Nonetheless, I went into the session vaguely not wanting to be there.

Fast-forward to the end of the meeting. Megs and I had just shared our lives and our calling to a group of dignified-looking men and women, in a room that echoed that dignity with tall ceilings, paintings on the walls, and a long conference table ringed with the elders of our church. I had just poured out the story of God's grace and discipleship of my life, and in the meantime had answered some questions about our calling. As several elders got up and talked with me about what I had just shared, I realized that I didn't want to leave. I wanted to continue to share, to tell more about God's work in my life, and to hear about God's work in theirs. I had learned long ago that honesty begets honesty, nakedness begets nakedness, so there was an atmosphere of openness and sharing in that room now.

And I realized that when I'd been upset earlier, maybe that was a bit of pride. Maybe I had felt, underneath my bluster, that these people didn't deserve my story because they couldn't be open with me, with their pretense and ties and suits. And of course, I was wrong. A testimony of God's work, whether I'm telling that story or someone else, is not something to be hidden or withheld. No matter the audience or my perception of the audience, God's praise must be given. The stones should not have to cry out.


Megs said...

Amen, I agree.