I think one of the saddest consequences of the original sin was the introduction of self-consciousness. When Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit they went from joyfully flitting around the Garden of Eden to being mortified they were naked. How sad to go from having a completely free conscience to being shamefully self-conscious.

The curse of self-consciousness has had a greater hold on me than most. I’ve always admired those who display the least self-awareness. How freeing not to care what other people think! As a teenager, I remember a man at church who belted out hymns with total abandon—in spite of the fact that he had a terrible, tone deaf voice. People like him—who care more about what God thinks than what people think—don’t allow criticism or derision deter them in the least.

Sadly, I haven’t been too successful at not caring what other people think of me. It’s held me back from speaking up boldly about my faith and reaching out to others for fear of being rejected.

My entire family is (or was) musically gifted, with me being the sole exception. Maybe, had I not been so self-conscious, I could have learned to play something or sing in key (but I highly doubt it, as I think it’s a God given gift). I can actually pinpoint the exact moment in time when even the idea of trying to acquire an ear for music was put to rest. 

I was a teenager and we were driving home from church one Easter Sunday. I remember feeling overwhelmed with love for Jesus and what He did for us, the sweet hymns we’d sung still resonating in my mind. And then, inexplicably, I screeched out, "He could have called 10,000 angels!" 

The car literally rocked with laughter. I wasn't at all surprised that my brothers were laughing at me— but my mom was doubled over with laughter, too. Shockingly enough, even my dad was laughing. I don’t remember my dad ever laughing at me. I immediately started crying. But even my tears didn't serve to stifle my mom's laughter. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she tried to assure me (amid fresh bouts of laughter) that it wasn't that it was bad singing, it was just the incredibly high notes I’d hit that had spawned all the hilarity. Whatever. I haven't tried to belt out a note since. 

In a recent sermon (lots of time to listen to sermons these days), the pastor said that self-consciousness is really just a pre-occupation with me, myself and I. Ouch!

Eugene Peterson defined worship as interrupting our preoccupation with ourselves. The less self-conscious we become the more God-conscious we become. It’s the reason worship feels so good—feels so right. (I couldn’t find the exact quote, but that’s the gist of it). 

In these unprecedented times we need an awareness of God’s presence more than ever. And I’m seeing it! So many inspiring stories of people shrugging off their “me, myself and I” attitude and leaning in to reach out to others in any way they can. 

Another silver lining is seeing the humor people are finding in these "lock down" days. There are dozens of examples, but one of my favorites was, “And just like that, prayer and spanking are back in schools.” 

I was blessed to grow up in a family who found humor in even the worst of circumstances—because we know the God who holds our future. And let’s face it—knowing there’s a happy ending allows us to live our story with a lot more levity and laughter.