Getting my hair cut this week I picked up a book. (So perhaps I am finally of age to be honest about this: there was very little cutting going on. I was getting my grey hair coloured so it matches the age of my heart. Yes. Around 25.) The book was called Post Secret. It’s a horrifying, heart-breaking, beautiful, disturbing series of pictures of post cards that people have anonymously mailed in – with their secrets on one side.
It was one of the most addictive things I have ever picked up. The hearts of others, right there, bleeding on every page. I wanted to take every one of those hearts home and fix them up with a warm bed, some fresh cake, big hugs and a lot of understanding tears. Not necessarily in that order. I wanted to keep going until I found one that lived happily ever after. Or an Alumni who tells their story ended well.
Later, as my friend the Grey-Disguiser and I spoke of lost lives, I could finally get out what the book had unsettled in me: I have a secret too.
It’s not dark and hurting. And the reason it made me cry to confess it is that so many people go their entire lives without ever finding it. And I’ve got it, but I keep it secret.
I have discovered the key to internal peace, complete fulfillment, and deep joy.
I’ve tested it and proven it to myself for over 20 years now.
But I’m scared you’ll think I’m arrogant.
So I don’t share it much.
is name is Jesus)