Secrets are garbage.

Dear You,

It has been the ink on a crinkled sheet of paper, bound to a one-dollar notebook from Walmart, that has torn down the walls of my broken soul and bore the darkest parts of me. 

When my eyes are clouded by tears and my heart is crying out desperately, screaming “why” with all the breath in my lungs, my hands still find their way to a fresh page and click-y pen to deliver the real me in letters that could never escape from my mouth on their own. 

The truth is, you can’t know me until you’ve read me. 

My journals and post-it notes and grocery lists and annotations speak more about me than I speak about me because vulnerability and honesty don’t, can’t, won’t exist in my head. So, instead, I’ve built up a fortress of scattered lies and false laziness that keeps me safe, tucked away under the cover of comfort, while my tattered insides pound and pound away—my skin its own drum. 

Tomorrow, if you were to approach me about this letter, I would surely reply, “Haha, yeah. I was just bored, avoiding homework per usual,” Then I would use the skills I’ve built up over years of hiding and change the subject from me to you, avoiding all conversation that might expose the worn-down, fragmented pieces of my spirit. 

But, I’ve never wanted to change something so much. 

You’d think I’d be happy, my ten-foot pole barely touching you from across the room, keeping my secrets, well, my secrets.

But, I’m not.

Secrets are heavy.

Secrets are taxing.

Secrets are garbage.

I’m learning every day that God created vulnerability and community for a reason. With my own eyes I’ve witnessed communities of people so overcome by the weight of their own sin, by the weight of all their secrets. 

Secrets are garbage.

God did not create you, his body, to fight your battles all alone. The fulfillment and relief that comes from sharing your burdens isn’t something that can be explained in words. While my hands and a keyboard can write a letter that tells more about me than I do, vulnerability can’t be explained in the same format. 

When you are on your knees, a bomb strapped to your chest, you’ll cut any wire that’ll keep it from exploding. Your burdens—the bomb. Your lies and secrets and hiding away in the corner of your own room while your dearest friends ask each other where and why you are and their only answer is laziness and homework—the wires. 

God wants you to put the scissors down and let the bomb explode.

Give others a chance to carry your burdens, to peer into your heart, and to enter the dusty gates of your soul. 

You and I are worth so, so, so, so, so much more than a life in shadows. 

Learning and Living With You,

Haley

Be your own person.

Dear You,

“You’re Boring!”

Ever heard that one before? I know I have. From a time when I was very young, I heard that I was the boring child. I didn’t do, or want to do, anything exciting. For a while, I didn’t really care. But as we all know, words eventually take their toll.

I started trying new things, like skiing, snowboarding, wakeboarding and skating (the latter ended terribly). These things eventually led me to a different group of friends, who in turn led me to drinking and drugs and a lot of regrets. A lot of misery because of a childhood insult.

But, I turned it around. Well, I didn’t turn myself around, so much as God turned me around. Full 180, I was “boring” again. It was a weird time, still trying to be with the edgy crowd, while not being edgy. I felt like the stray barbeque sauce bottle among a sea of mayonnaise.

Now you may be wondering: Matt, why did you say all that? No, seriously, why?

Well, Faithful reader, I just want you to know that I know how much the words hurt. Sometimes they hurt so much, that you get that “Life Sucks and then you die” feeling. Which isn’t good or bad, it just is. It happens. There is nothing wrong with being a little down.

But you can’t stay down.

You (and by you I mean we) need to pick yourself up and show them that the words don’t mean anything anymore. You’ve heard them a million times and they were lies then and they are lies now. And yes, it will be hard, and it will hurt, and you will fail, and you will succeed. You just have to keep moving. You will stand out like a sore thumb. Own it. Make it you. Be “that guy”. Be “that girl”. What’s more boring than being what everyone else says you should be? The “blind leading the blind” comes to mind.

Be your own person. If you don’t know who you want to be, that’s okay too. Take your time, there is no rush to determine your own life. Once you take your stand as the “new you”, don’t think that you will be that way forever. People change, times change, styles change, trends change. Don’t be so worried about who you want to be, that you can’t be that person.

You need to know that who you want to be, can be who you are. But it takes blood, sweat and tears to get there. But never, ever sacrifice your health- physical, mental, or spiritual- to become someone. It will consume you.

If you want/need to cry, cry. Crying is good, and that’s coming from a guy who can count on his fingers the number of times he’s cried since he was 10.

I just want us all to see that who we are shouldn’t be dictated by others.

Learning and living with you,

Matthew Wheeler