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When they discover the center of the universe, a lot of people will be disappointed to discover they are not it.”
–Bernard Bailey

I’m often struck by how much I think about me. I’m an introspective person, so maybe I have a heighten sense of this compared to most people, but really, have you stopped and thought about how much “you” were the topic of your internal conversation? “I” am how I perceive the world, how I make sense of what goes on around me, and how I evaluate my relationships. We talk in terms of what happens to us – as if the person on the freeway who cut in front purposefully tried to ruin “my” day. We judge people on how they treat “me” regardless of who they actually might be. We perceive, quite readily, that our experiences are what makes up reality and therefore our perception of reality is what’s true.

It’s amazing then that as Christians what happens to “us” is supposed to be the least of our concerns. First, our life is no longer our own – we’ve given it as a gift of love in response to the ultimate sacrifice that Jesus made on our behalf. Secondly, our back is covered; we have the Creator of the universe paving the path that we’re to tread. There’s no reason to be focused on what’s going happen to along the way; ultimately our destination is paradise. Being freed from the focus on us allows us to focus on others and in helping to make sure that their arrival is also secured.

Perceiving the universe with me at the center might be ridiculously common. But let’s hope we get a right perception of things before science proves how ridiculous it actually is.

It’s easy to tell when I’m embarrassed. Despite all my best attempts to prevent the color from flooding my face, I’ve never been able to accomplish it. My pale skin doesn’t help matters. I might not wear my heart on my sleeve but I definitely wear my embarrassment on my cheeks.

The good news is that I’ve never had caused to be really embarrassed. Sure, I’ve had a few mishaps now and then (falling asleep in the middle of conducting training with a new employee),and I’ve said some things I probably shouldn’t (refer to the previous example, along with about a dozen other things that have ended up on the quote board at work), but all-in-all, I’ve lead a life unworthy of headlines. I’ve said before I could be a great politician if I only liked politics. There would be very little dirt to uncover.

I was thinking about embarrassment because of a recent experience. One of my closest friends, who has been a huge part of my life for more than a decade, was embarrassed to call me for help simply because we’ve been out of touch for a while. One of the reasons I moved back to Orange County was so that I could be around her kids, and yet she was sheepish about asking me to spend a few hours helping out at a high school football game. She knew I would say yes – she even told me that. But she still felt like she shouldn’t ask.

As I pondered this situation, it occurred to me – most of the time when we’re embarrassed it has everything to do with our perception of ourselves and very little to do with the actual situation. We want to be the one person on Earth who has it all together – and yet none of us do. Our pride prevents us from laughing at experiences because we are too worried about the impression we’ve made. My friend didn’t want to call me because of what it said about her – not because of me. She thought that because we hadn’t talked she hadn’t lived up to the expectations of friendship, and although we both were well aware of the situation, she didn’t want to feel exposed.

I think exposure is half the fun of the experience. Learning to be vulnerable means learning to be real. That’s one of the reasons we have a quote board at work. We all say stupid (I mean witty) things, we might as well all share them.

Laughing at myself didn’t come naturally – it was something I had to learn. But now I don’t mind sharing about being scarred of “the brown dog with ears” or the alligator I thought I saw on the Toll Road, or even how I said that one of my co-workers face was red – like a pumpkin.