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by Sarah Jeanne

It was the beginning of the end, literally. I stared back defiantly at the blood red fabric I had used for the past 2 years to try and disguise my situation. This curtain and I had reached our swan song, our last tango…. and I was on the losing end. I had used this curtain to cordon off my own space, my own little retreat. Yet for the last two weeks, it took on a rebellious nature and kept falling down, sometimes several times a day. “In the Name of Jesus- Stay UP!” (Yes, I actually commanded it in Jesus’ name. Almost on cue, it fell down immediately afterwards.) I felt a wave of hot tears betray my stubborn nature and stream down my face. The overwhelming feeling of being naked and exposed flooded my being as I looked up to Heaven to ask the inevitable, “Why, God?” The answer came at once in that marvelous still, small voice. “Sarah Jeanne, let the curtain go. I’m~RENTING~YOUR~VEIL!”

If you look up the word ‘veil’ in the Encarta World English Dictionary, you will find part of the definition to read this: something that acts like a curtain in hiding, disguising, or obscuring something else, or separating one thing from another. Little did I know how veiled I had been for most of my life. For most of my life, I have been known as something of a mess. And when I say mess, I mean a real mess: my rooms, offices, desks, lockers, closets, etc. I have never been known for my neat-streak.

Now before I get too in depth, let me admit something to you. This is not an easy thing to divulge. It has been my own private disgrace and it dates back to around age 6, when my father passed away. Whatever it is, I have dealt with it for the greater portion of my life. In the fourth grade, my teacher thought she would do me a favor by making me an example in front of the entire class. My desk, the messiest by far, was dumped out in front of everyone and I was made to pick it up and put it away neatly, even if it took me until after school to do it. Face crimson, I obeyed. It worked… for about 3 days. I am sure she thought me a hopeless case after that.

Being messy would be a major source of “What’s wrong with me?” from this point forward. I used it as an excuse to push people away from me. In some ridiculous way of thinking, it was my way of ensuring my privacy. With my room in the condition it was in, no one wanted to hang out with me, and I could hide in my own thoughts and feelings whenever I wanted to. I lived like a little rat, surrounded by things and boxes and an accumulation of junk: old receipts, ticket stubs, mementos of places and people I had experiences with but had now forgotten what they meant to me at one time. I would become so engrossed in numerous activities after school, after work, etc., that when it became necessary to clean, I would often fall into bed exhausted from doing everything else but. It was my own private hell, but one I was content to stay in for the time being.

From the ages of 21-27, I moved around the country. I had fallen away from the Catholic upbringing I once knew and was searching for myself out in the big, wide world. I moved across the country 3 different times: from Wisconsin to Colorado, from Colorado to Massachusetts and ultimately, from Massachusetts to California, where I now reside. Each time I moved, I seemed to accumulate even more than I had left behind. It was a sense of security for me to know I still had my grocery store card from Colorado, even though that particular chain of stores was not anywhere near Boston, and such things like that. I had no identity in Christ, so I struggled to hold onto anything that showed I was really living a life somewhere, even one I didn’t want to let anyone into fully.

Living like I did, of course, opens one up to a barrage of criticism and judgment from others. I became obsessed with apologizing for and joking about my mess even before someone was able to see it. I avoided socializing in my own home and never practiced hospitality. I became convinced I was worthless. For some reason, I could keep the common areas clean ~ cleaning up for others wasn’t a big deal. I would occasionally clean my friends’ homes as a gesture of love, but my own room was a different story. It was a spiritual nightmare for me.

Eventually, I also got involved in drugs, mainly due to my struggle with feelings of worthlessness and depression. This lifestyle went hand in hand with all the things I was struggling with in my messiness, especially hiding myself away. It became necessary for me to close myself off from the prying eyes of humanity because I was literally breaking the law. Common household objects now became safe places to stash the drugs and paraphernalia I so desperately wanted to hide. But in doing so, I became the biggest piece of paraphernalia I owned ~ a walking time- bomb waiting to be discovered and eventually arrested.

Even after I gave up drugs and chose God, I struggled with the feeling of needing to be hidden. I hadn’t been able to fully surrender my mess. Right after I committed my life to Christ in 2004, I had had enough. In desperation, I cried out to Him to help me be normal. I hated living like this but didn’t know how to change. I prayed fervently that He would make me a neater person and help me get rid of the double life I was leading. On the outside, most people had no clue about the mess I would go home to at night. I was able to handle myself just fine on the other side of the curtain.

For the last two years, I lived in an amazing Christian home. Still awash with clutter, I shared a downstairs room with one other girl, and in my cleverness, I divided my section off with these beautiful crimson floor- length curtains so that I could have some sort of privacy. Or so I thought. During the past year, I ended up sharing my room with 3 more girls, sometimes two of them at one time. Every time I would attempt to hide behind those curtains, God would send another sister to me and make me share my space, and my mess, with them. To say I was over- apologetic would be an understatement. I was downright embarrassed, uncomfortable, and frustrated…. with myself.

Before I chose God, I had always had my own room. Fiercely independent, I was able to provide my own rent, pay my own bills, etc. Working in the ministry, I have been called into a season of living completely by faith that He will provide whatever I need. So I found myself dependent on others and unable to walk away from this calling that I knew He had placed on my life. And now with the curtain falling down, I literally had no place to call my own. Extremely humbled, I finally obeyed the voice of God and willfully took the rest of the curtain down. It felt as if the very last piece of my old life and stubborn carnal mind were being taken down with it.

When you pray things like, “Whatever it takes, God!” or “Cleanse me, Lord! Take this iniquity away!”, be prepared to go through with some of the most intense testing fire you can imagine. Sometimes it takes us a few years before we can pray those prayers and truly mean them. God is God. He knows what we can handle and when we can handle it. For some reason, it took me three years to fully go through this process, but when my veil was finally rent, a true change took place. I am cleaner and neater than I have ever been before in my life! I am actually able to allow friends into my room and invite guests over for dinner, and I am finally living in the freedom I had prayed for so long ago. I no longer have to hide because I now have a true identity, one rooted in Him. I’ve discovered that sometimes God needs to rent the veil in order to let the Son shine through.

Sarah Jeanne is unit production team leader for Christian WYSIWYG Filmworks. She was one of the leaders in Italy for our 70mm film test shot, which was featured in the film “Audience of One”.