The Reality Shelf

Here it is...the season of fall. I am truly treasuring this current change in leaves and Portland weather -- or more specifically boots, scarves and crackling fires. This season invites the smooth scents of cider and pumpkins, with little splashes of orange and brown to cozy up a room. Though I am living with my older sister, Krista, her 4-year-old daughter, Ava, and their dog, Charlie (the girl), I still take it upon myself to make the living areas warm, inviting, and -- here comes the truth -- perfect. At least for when company arrives. The pillows are fluffed, and throw blankets casually placed on the couches (as if they'd just been neatly used), the area rug is vacuumed and surfaces wiped clean of dust. Chairs are straightened, and apple cinnamon and pumpkin candles are lit about ten minutes prior to arrival to make sure the aromas have permeated just enough. I breathe in, I smile to myself and I relax.

I return back down the hallway of hardwood floors and open the door to my bedroom to make sure it's at least presentable. Clean for the most part. Nothing strays on the floor or rests piled up in a corner. While I am moderately satisfied with its appearance, there is a looming distraction filling my conscience. Like a shadow by my side, like gum stuck on my shoe, like the constant ticking of a clock, it summons me -- my Reality Shelf. This is a term I have used frequently with Josh, my fiance, as a justification for the messy and cluttered being of a shelf that lives in my room. All of my books are laid this way and that, with dozens of lotion bottles mixed in between. A little green basket of misfit items sits in the middle of the shelf with batteries, old gift cards and an unfinished underwater camera from a family trip to Maui that happened months ago. The printer that I still haven't gotten to work sits on the bottom shelf with random DVDs, a silly hand-made picture frame, a little rock that says hope, and a couple mugs that weren't able to fit in the kitchen cupboard. I tense...then I breath in, I smile and I relax.

You see, some parts of me want to be ashamed of my Reality Shelf. I often feel like I need to justify this piece of me that is not quite presented perfectly and readily. But in reality, this is me. This is the shelf that contains the memories and heartache that some may see only as clutter. These books have traveled with me to foreign countries, given me inspiration, and brought me through my own torrents of emotion and spirituality. That unfinished water camera (which I will finish) documents the first time that Josh and I swam with a sea turtle, only days after he proposed to me (Josh, not the sea turtle). That little rock with the miraculous word of hope is a constant and desperate reminder of my beloved little brother, who I now can only visit in my dreams. This is my reality; yes, this is truly me.

We are often afraid of who and what we are perceived to be. We make sure to quickly conceal the personality traits or past events that seem to hinder our "perfect version" of self. If someone comes in unannounced and discovers a less-than-desirable version of what we have tried to display, we only become aware of what we are not rather than the beautiful collage of what we are. Aren't you tired of always falling short in your own comparisons? In truth, without the element of a Reality Shelf, we would be no more dynamic than a lifeless manikin dressed up in a showcase window. The elements of life that have brought us fear, depression, anguish and bittersweet sorrow no longer need to be anchors that hold us back from living translucently. Rather, they are the reminders that lead us to relish peace, joy, excitement and bittersweet hope.The Lord has searched you, inside and out, and He knows you. He knows how beautifully you can make your home, as well as how messy your Reality Shelf has become. He treasures them both, your strengths and your weaknesses. He longs for you to sort through your reality -- avoiding the tendency to linger on the past -- to cherish the broken road that led you to today. Our job is not to show up refined, but to be readily refinable, with our box of messy misfits in hand.

It's a loose theory but I can bet that you have a Reality Shelf as well, either physically in your back bedroom or somewhere hovering like a shadow in your heart. Either way, embrace it. Remember it. Know that it does not define you but shows the life you have lived and the merciful road you have traveled.

Come on over, I would love to show you my real self -- my Reality Shelf.

Cheers,

Jamie Leanne