I have a friend who drives a really nice luxury car.  However, although it looks great on the outside, it doesn’t run well.  Not only that, but inside, it’s embarrassingly full of clutter and trash.  She shared with me that when she pulls up to the pick-up line at the elementary school, she always wants her son to hop in and shut the door quickly so none of the other moms will ever see the mess inside her car.

It would be easy to criticize her for this, for keeping up a polished exterior but not dealing with mess inside, but I know her.  I know that’s not her intention nor her heart.  Instead, I have compassion that she feels so trapped inside with the chaos and expects to be judged harshly by anyone who sees it.

What a metaphor for so many of us.  Are we hiding our hurt and shame behind tinted windows?  Do we live in such a way that others feel safe to roll down their own?