Halloween is a time when we can become something we are not. We can pretend to be evil, or a princess, an object  or a cartoon figure.

As a child it was kinda fun because we did not go to stores and buy costumes, we did not have money to do that. So my mom would make things for us.

As my own child became Halloween ready, quite often the costume was home made. It became a challenge to figure out what I was capable of making , and have it be something that Jeff would be able to wear…

And now..as a grandmother, as an older person who tends to try to step back or hover above life.. I see Halloween is not a day… for some it is every time they leave their home. At church this week it was a new sermon series and the pastor handed out plain white masks to all of us. The sermon has seeped into me deeply, because it dealt with what mask do we hide behind from God..but to take it further… what mask do we hide ourselves from others.

That is a pretty tough question. Sometimes I will make a facial expression at home and Mark will say he wished he had a picture of it because he would send it to where I work and let them see the REAL me. I laugh when he says that, because I think—or I  thought I was pretty open. But as I look at the mask from church- which I have in the car on the middle headrest in the back seat…. ( so every time I look in the rear view mirror I am reminded of it)—I wonder about who I am real with and who I am not. Who is real with me, and who is an act.

Further more… what do people really expect of each other  when they ask   “How are you?” We often say “fine and you?” but are we really fine? And did they really want to know?

I love this free clip art image of an alien being a little boy. For me, I would definitely want the little boy to be the real thing and not the alien.

Yet how many of us are aliens in our own way?

Life and its bumps and turns , life makes us into being who we are, but more so making us only a part of who we are. And for me, I know some of the bumps and bruises of life have made me become more private in my thoughts. I have become less outgoing, and less real at times. As a child, as a teen..I was always criticized for talking too much..now I am a woman of few words most of the time.

When we get shot down, when we get lied to, when we get hurt…we get a pretty big collection of masks to hide behind.

Through it all.. as I look at the mask in my car..I realize there are many costumes/ masks that cover up  parts of me, parts  I have put to sleep. Some things I care not to remember— ( but a song or a place may awaken them) and some that have knocked me down a few pegs . The mask… the sermon…. has made me think.. Who am I ? and Who are you?

Love to all, be safe… Cindy alias Mrs Justa (or whomever I am !)

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