Who told you that you were naked?

I was over reading Lisa's blog this morning, and she was telling the story of having to do an ice-breaker in the middle of a strategy meeting. The facilitator - I hate these people, they are just too happy - had asked everyone what they had done this summer. And it got to her as every other person in the room mentioned his wife or her husband.

She had a great story to tell of a wonderful trip to Maine to meet with some fifty of us crazy widdas, but she could not tell it without tears. At the end of her tale, she says she to improve her acting skills.

http://hatetuesdays.blogspot.com/

One of my favorite stories in the Bible is one of the very first stories. Again from my Catholic Study Bible translation:

The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.
When they heard the sound of the Lord God moving about in the Garden at the breezy time of day, the man and his wife hid themselves from the Lord God among the trees of the garden. The Lord God then called to the man and asked him, "Where are you?" He answered, "I heard you in the garden, but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself." Then he asked, "Who told you that you were naked?"

Genesis 3: 6-11.

Two of my favorite verses are questions. This one, and "Who, then, do you say I am?"

Lisa is telling the story of what she did this summer. I cannot adequately explain the intimacy that occurs when fifty young widows all gather in the same place. It is about more than just being widows. It is not like we sit around for three days and talk about how much it sucks that our spouses died. We do that some, and we compare stories of how our children are doing, or of how deep the pain is of being childless, or stories of wonderful, compassionate medical professionals, or the mindless indifference of others. That is part of the experience, but if it were just that, we could do all of that online.

No, what is really is that brings us together is we can all walk around naked for three days. Not literally, of course, though in my mind I am going through the roster and thinking, "too bad" or "thank goodness" alternatively. The world does not like to think about the fact that sometimes life ends in our 40's. Or 30's. Or 20's. And so the world does not like to think of us as widows because it is not comfortable for them. And so we keep a careful eye on ourselves. We don't want to be outcasts, especially not for being widows because we don't want to be widows. We want to be normal as if it is bringing our old life back. And then we get around our fellow widow friends, on this amazing weekend, and we are able to forget all of that.

The world needs us. Marriages need us. More people need to live like they were dying, or at least live like they could die. People want insulation from that because they know the choices they are making don't stand up to scrutiny. Why work that 65th hour this week when the wife and children are being neglected emotionally? Granted, staying at the office is easier than mending those fences. So they insulate themselves from scrutiny, from life. Until Lisa comes along and has a moment of nakedness. And then they all stare with toothless smiles until she is so uncomfortable that she has to run off for coffee and composure.

Lisa, there is no shame in being naked. Only shame in letting them think you shouldn't be.