Fair warning: We just got back from a trip to Florida, so you may be exposed to a plethora of whimsical Disney adjectives and analogies. Apologies in advance.
A few years ago, I agreed to help my dad deliver a trailer full of odds and ends to our local scrap metal depot. When we pulled in, we drove up onto the large scale meant to weigh everything before unloading.
Once we cleared out all the scrap from the trailer, my dad got a mischievous smile on his face and told me to walk into the office and collect the payment from the staff while he drove the truck and trailer back onto the scale. As I climbed the stairs to the office - more like a viewing gallery to the scale, I realized why my dad had sent me. The weight when we drove in included my weight - which was practically nothing. Obviously.
We were to be paid the difference between the two weigh-ins. I realized that the weight of the items we had brought in would be inaccurate - as it would not have subtracted my weight from the total. I tried to hide my nervousness as I entered the office.
The gallery was filled to the brim with staff members... well like six of them anyway. "We need to weigh you!" was the chorus thrown in my direction as soon as I entered. "Of course," I stammered trying to hide the absolute horror their words incited, "Sorry." I glanced around the room, "Do you have a scale in here?" They all stared at me like a group of alligators leering at a hippo in a tutu - clearly I am the tutu in this analogy.
They smiled and pointed out the large window with the view to the truck scale.
"That big over-sized scale out there?" I asked feebly, "The one with the huge Jumbotron display above it?" They all chuckled and nodded, thoroughly enjoying the knowledge that I was about to be humiliated. "Oh wow," I breathed out.
I slowly descended the stairs, my shoulders hunched, my postpartum belly dragging on the ground (not really but that's how I felt). I walked onto the large scale: a perfect picture of Dumbo nervously clinging to a feather, fully aware of the glaring, judgmental spectators - clearly I am the feather in this analogy.
"Isn't reading a scale more so a one person job?!?" I called out, "Is there really nowhere else the rest of you need to be?!?" The chorus of laughter answered my question. The worst was looking over in my dad's direction, who was still sitting in the truck beyond the scale, laughing so hard his whole body was vibrating like Goofy with his finger caught in an electrical outlet. Everything in me wanted to pull a Donald Duck tantrum, but I managed to keep my composure.
"Are you sure I'm even heavy enough to register on the scale, 'cause I run into that problem a lot!" I quipped... through the inner tears.
Honestly, I do love the body God gave me, especially because it's brought some of my favorite people into the world, but I still found the vulnerability of this experience to be "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious"ly overwhelming.
In the end, I summoned my die-hard, Olaf optimism and was able to draw some good insight from the experience:
Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.
...Whatever you have said in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have whispered behind closed doors will be proclaimed from the housetops.
Whatever I may have felt as my weight was displayed as a flashing neon sign above my head, it was nothing compared to how I'd feel if my soul was laid bare for all to see - the faults, the many imperfections, the sins and all the ugly totally out there, in the open.
Currently, all these shortcomings are perfectly visible to the One who sees me as I truly am. He who knows my deepest thoughts and greatest struggles. There is nowhere to hide. That's a little scary, but important for me to bear in mind, as it compels me to frequently confess my sins and work harder to become the person God created me: the best version of myself.
And yet, there's also something beautiful about the prospect of our souls being laid bare. Any faulty judgments cast your way, misunderstandings, or cruel assumptions created by those who don't know your heart, will one day give way to truth. You will be seen as you truly are. Then the dream that you wish will come true... wait! What? Nope. That's not what I mean.
Then you will be seen as the diamond in the rough... ugh!
Then you will finally be a real boy! Or just real... in general.
I'm going to have to do the Disney Detox Diet. But not too severely... this little pixie dust-saturated Tinker Bell already weighs practically nothing - clearly I am the pixie dust in this analogy.