I have a stiff shell, an exterior facade that seems to have a life of its own, maybe like a vine that covers a tree and appears to be its foliage. It has almost complete control of my voice tone and face and gestures. It is rooted in years of use and evolvement in acting as a defense against pain and rejection by others. It effectively blocks over 90% of the new life awakening inside my soul from being seen on the outside. In doing so it causes confusion on the inside as to who I really am.

It powerfully inhibits truthful expressions of praise and heartfelt gratitude. It uses fear and intimidation to stop me from singing, dancing and rejoicing in God my Savior with full abandon like my heart inside wants to do. It suffocates the new life and growth that the Spirit is doing inside of me. I am like a hothouse box with plants pressed against the glass desperately struggling to push into the open freedom of fresh cool air and refreshing showers while withering from the intensifying heat in the restricted interior.

Even simple stories of answers to prayer wither in significance when attempting to come into the open. The facade ridicules them and discounts their significance and hides the fact that it only wants to protect its own reputation of consistency. It is full of hidden pride, aloofness, viewing myself as better than collectively those around me. It is carefully defensive and hides the anger that often flares up inside, careful to maintain a pious exterior and allowing enough of the new growth inside to be seen by others as to impress them with my growing spirituality. I definitely feel like a perfect specimen of Romans 7 – who will deliver me from this external body of death? Only Jesus can. But how do I get there from here? God – you know.