For when you just don’t know what to be

“A zombie with blood dripping out of my eyeballs! Will that work? Can I be that? Or what about the guy with the chainsaw?” this boy goes on and on with his lists of possible costumes as we wander the aisles of the costume store. And I have no words. What is the deal with all things death?

“No blood, gore or death, that’s the rule!” I remind him as I add ‘get a pumpkin’ to my list of things to do.

“But, mom! Then what am I going to be!?!!” he questions loudly. “Why are you always so against all things Halloween?”

What? Good ol’ Halloween. We meet again.

Here in the waning winds of October, you somehow always manage to sneak up on me. How do we not even have a pumpkin yet? And it isn’t as if I haven’t seen you coming. You are the boys’ favorite holiday with your craziness and your candy.

And dear Halloween, I have nothing against you. I love a good costume and what could possibly be better than a day to wear weird clothes, run around the neighborhood and fill our buckets with sweet treats?

But you are entirely too much work. This answering  the “what are you going to be?” question for everyone, this building of disguises, this party planning and this decorating all manage to push me to my limit. There just doesn’t seem to be enough of me to go around this time of year.

The list of ingredients I need  for the school party is growing and my little one wanders in waving his Harry Potter wand and muttering nonsense words.

“I wish it was real, mom! Then I could change everyone into something different for Halloween! That would be cool!” I wish it was real too, that magic wand. Perhaps it could poof away this lengthy list and magically carve the pumpkin I keep forgetting to buy.

What about you? Do  you know yet? What are you going to be? Scary or funny? Serious or silly? Clever or crazy?

And what if you just don’t know what to be?

Being something different seems to imply that what you are just won’t work. Whoever heard of going as themselves for Halloween?? My kids would seriously mutiny if I ever suggested such a thing.

The costume is the fun part. Pretending to be something you are not and hiding behind the mask is the point and the reason for the holiday and why am I always taking all the fun out of everything?

My older one finally decides he wants to be Chewbacca, “But can I be that without the mask?  I hate masks! Will anyone know who I am?”

Chewbacca without the mask? What kind of a Wookiee would you be without a hairy face? No. I don’t think anyone will get it.

He can’t figure it out. Will anyone know who I am?  But, his question finds its way into my soul as I continue to search through the disastrous costume drawer.

Because we all wonder that, don’t we?

 We put on the costumes and the masks that the world hands us. Busy. Stressed Out. Happy. Blessed. Overwhelmed. Everyone else seems to be wearing them; so maybe they will work. But we wonder. Does anyone know who I am? 

It is acknowledgement and connection that we seek. We long to be someone who is known in real and authentic ways.

But taking off the costume and the mask isn’t always the easiest thing to do.

“Search me, O God and know my heart.” David writes these words in one of his Psalms. David, known as the man after God’s own heart. David, who made some very bad decisions and did some heartbreaking things. Yet, he longed, not for a costume to hide behind, but for the unmaking of it all; to be someone known by God.

My own heart quickens at this thought. God knowing me not as I think I am, but as I really am. The God of the whole universe knowing the things in my heart; seeing me without the trappings of my worldly masks? I dig deeper into the drawer of costumes because maybe there is a way to hide.

What does God see when he looks on my heart?  I know he sees the jealousy, the anger, the hurt, the pain; none of it escapes his sight. But when he looks upon me, and when he looks upon you, and any of us who have called upon the name of Jesus, do you know what he really sees?

He sees Jesus.

Not our costumes. Not our happy masks or our feeble attempts at goodness. Not our missteps or bad choices. None of it. He sees our Savior. And it steals my breath.

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9).

Holy. Royal. Chosen. His. That’s what he sees and that’s what he calls us.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life.”

It is the truth behind all the masks. We are known. For real. For all the good and all the bad. And we are loved.

But that’s not all.

The kids eventually all settle on a costume for the big day. And we acquire a pumpkin to carve for the front steps. I watch the evening shadows fall; the glinting candles and streetlights mingle in the wind. And Halloween takes on a different kind of glow.

You see, Jesus stood right next to his disciples, men for whom he would give his life, and he told them how it was going to work.

“You are the light of the world. A city on hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put in under a bowl.” (Matthew 5:14-15).

And I hear it like this: You are known and you are loved, but you are also called and sent. Sent to be real and to take the my light to those around you. That’s who I made you to be. A people after my own heart. So be that. Be my light. And go.

Because there is nothing this world needs more than light shining in the darkness. And that jack-o-lantern just smiles, his grin winking at me in the front porch shadows like he knows exactly what it means to be full of light.

“Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good deeds and give glory to your Father in heaven” ( Matthew 5:16).