Some O' Dem Dry Bones by Mary, but not contrary

SOME O’ DEM DRY BONES Class assignment for Oct 5, 2009 Prompt: Tell the awful truth. This was not what I started to write about, but what came together after all. I will add to this and speak more about the ‘awful truth’ in another piece. If I may borrow Stan’s creative analogy, I would agree that we all have skeletons in our closet. I loved the way he added: “but they don’t have to dance in our living room.” Sometimes it is important to get our skeletons out of the closet. If we don’t they could pose a silent threat that somehow continues to influence us and begins to define us. This necessary process of letting them out, examining them, letting those old bones see the light; then facing the decay, admitting the truth and dealing with it, keeps ‘it’ from defining us. This class has provided a safe environment for that process. Things that happen to us; things we are not proud of; slips of the tongue that show others what we were really thinking; acts of rebellion, selfish unkindness, too swift judgment, and the whole attitudinal morass; needs to be unearthed. Not all of it needs to be shared, but some unspeakable things we thought we could never tell, need to see the light of day. Otherwise, decay begins to rot and the disease of ‘secrets’ cause interior crumbling. Maybe this is how we turn back into dust. There is unspeakable freedom in letting those skeletons dance in the living room. Airing out that closet helps immensely with all the stale odors that we imagine define us. Being able to trust our humanity with the humanity of others, brings a refreshing reality to bare bones. The flesh takes on new skin, and our self-concept begins to fill out. On some level the old dead things become alive. Shame loses its power to condemn, and that is when the dancing begins. Quite a few of my skeletons have been dancing in the living room since I joined this class. My closet no longer stinks. This new freedom comes with somewhat of a responsibility, however. Now that I know where the stench came from and how it got there, it is time for those skeletons to dance right out the front door. My closet can’t dance. It will always be there wondering if any more bones will be stored inside. It will always remind me of all the nooks and crannies where dishonesty could be stored. Dishonesty comes from the desire to save face; from the need to impress; and especially in my case, from the longing for security and acceptance. Once I began to believe that I was unconditionally loved and accepted by Jesus, that pressure began to dissipate. Now that the door has slammed shut behind those dancing bones and locked them out, it is my responsibility to guard that closet door. Knowing the old patterns that caused that closet to fill up, I have the opportunity to offer creative listening without judgment to anyone daring to unlock that door. I can become that safe place for them. I can start the music by caring enough to listen. I can share my life story, helping people with no words to speak. I can use my voice the help them find theirs. Mary, but not contrary October 6, 2009