The Masquerade Ball, Part 4 - "The Mask Uncovered"

by An Orphan Crowned

Usually, I start my posts off with song lyrics and follow with an allegory, but today, I want to share my story first. It was early March this year. I struggled through the last year with guilt, fear, and shame weighing me down. Of course, there were definitely lighthearted moments and places where I could truly see God working in my life, but I had reached a place where I was sick of the acting. I was sick of being stuck in a cycle of fighting to please God only to act out in rebellion, and let myself (and Him) down every single time.

A friend had given me a book called The Shack by William P. Young. It told the story of a man who couldn’t understand why bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it. God showed up in a miraculous way to this man and changed his heart in a weekend. I read this book straight through in a day, laughing and crying as I was reassured that God could and would use the pain in my life for His ultimate glory. I found hope that day. I begged God to help me to trust Him. God used this book to change my heart in a huge way!

The second part of the story took place at the STELLO summer camp, when I surrendered my mask. It was a day that truly showed me that I’m not alone in this struggle. I caught a glimpse of how much God loves me! I always try (as much as possible within an allegory) to match the real story with this girl’s. I want her to feel what I feel and struggle with the same battles. I really hope that you don’t just enjoy reading this story. My desire is that you might learn something new about yourself, or God. Thank you for reading!

*****************************

(Continued from "Confronted with Truth")

“Don’t worry, dear.” The Man whispered as a tear slid down the girl’s face. “There’s still Hope.” The song had finally ended and couples began to leave the dance floor to find their next partners. The Man still held the girl’s hand, and he asked, “May I have this next dance?”

“Why? Do you want to embarrass me further?” The girl responded miserably. “Why must you keep after me? What do I have that you could want?!” She began to turn away, but a gentle hand rested on her shoulder.

“I want your heart." The girl sighed, but the Man hadn't finished talking. "Sure, it doesn’t look pretty right now, but it can change! The laws of The Dance are impossible to follow, right?” She slowly nodded, her back still turned. “So stop trying to follow the rules. Simply follow me.”

You think I haven’t tried? The girl slowly pivoted to face the Man. “How?” She questioned skeptically.

“Let's dance!” He laughed as the music began again. “But this time, don’t rely on your skill; let me lead your steps.”

The next five minutes were a delightful blur. The girl made mistake after mistake, just like the last dance, but the Man didn't look angry or let down. He was patient, and, for the first time, the girl felt truly accepted by another person. It may have seemed an embarrassing or even disgraceful performance to any who looked on, but she didn't care. The two stepped in time and spun around till the room turned on its side. When the music finally stopped, they hurried over to the refreshment table, laughing the whole way. The girl noticed several of the other attendees looking at the pair uncomfortably.

Out of breath and giddy from the encounter, she still had some questions. “Why would you pick me?” The man smiled. “I mean, I’m not pretty. I've insulted you to your face, and I can’t dance as well as any other lady in here.”

“Let me tell you something.” The Man led her to a set of chairs near the table. They sat and he took the girl’s hands. “I see beyond all masks. I know your heart’s longings and your dreams. I knew that you would insult me, and that you would make mistakes while dancing. But I’ve told you before that it doesn’t matter! Your unworthiness, your worthiness, your looks, your fears, and your excuses don’t matter.”

“But… how could they matter so much to me, and be so meaningless to you?” The girl was astonished.

“It’s because I love you with a love that surpasses the external. I love your heart. Remember the story of my Son? He died so that you could be free from your mask! All you have to do is trust me to take your mask off. Then others will see the work I do in your heart.”

In that moment, the girl froze in fear, clasping her hands over the mask on her face. The Man hadn't mentioned her mask until now. As she shrunk away from the man, she noticed a peculiar sight. An unmasked lady sat nearby. How free she looked! Could I… could I be like that?? Could I be free? Slowly and tearfully, the girl removed her hands from the covering. She looked up. “Please… will you take it off?” She begged the Man.

Instantly, her face was revealed. Nothing was hidden anymore. Suddenly she was wrapped in a tight embrace, and she began to break down. The unmasked lady had rushed over and was hugging her tightly. The girl realized that she no longer felt alone. Her mask was off and she didn’t have to hide anymore! The lady looked down at her and smiled warmly, but she moved aside as the Man held his hand out to the girl.

“I believe we still have one more dance, my dear.” He grinned as the girl brushed the tears from her eyes. She remembered the name he had written on her dance card. Love, it had read.

“So, what does a dance with love look like?” She asked the Man as they headed back to the floor.

He laughed delightedly. “It’s the dance that never ends, as my love for you never fails. Now you can learn to live for me without your mask. You can share my overflowing love to others around you. When you dance with my love, you become free!”

That was the dance where the girl found eternal love. She didn't live happily ever after, because sometimes, life really stinks. But her mask was off, and she discovered freedom that day.

*****************************

"I'm not gonna hide, I'm not gonna run away,

I'll uncover the scars and show you every mistake,

Your love is mending my blisters and the bruising shame,

Here with you, I am safe.”

Safe - Natalie Grant

The Masquerade Ball, Part 3 - "Confronted With Truth"

by An Orphan Crowned

“What can I do for you, what can I bring for you;

What kind of song would you like me to sing?

‘Cause I’ll dance a dance for you, pour out my love for you;

What can I do for you, beautiful king?”

Jenn Johnson, A Little Longer

*****************************

(Continued from the Unmasked Man)

After the way she rejected him, she never expected to see the Man again after that night at the ball. Days turned into weeks, and her mask seemed heavier than ever. She was slipping and she knew it, but the worst part wasn't that she was hurting more than ever; the worst part was that no one realized that.

She had certainly tried to clean up her act. She was now taking lessons again to learn to dance better. She was unconsciously hoping that someday, she could see the unmasked Man again and actually be prepared to dance with him. She had stopped entertaining the handsome men who came to call, and no longer cared for the Friday evening dances, for the talk with the other revelers now felt hollow.

She had unthinkingly decided that once she had perfected herself, she would be free to take her mask off. Still, perfection seemed farther away with each new morning.

One September evening, the girl slipped her gloves on as she walked into the all too familiar ballroom. She wished that she wasn't expected to keep company with the other guests. It’s all so dreary, all of the conversations, the girl mused. She was actually looking forward to the dancing tonight, for she had learned several new steps in her lessons and was ready to show them off.

The ballroom was elegantly decorated, though some might say that it was furnished slightly too much. The girl placed her dance card on the table that had been set out for the men to choose their dances for the evening. After cautiously mingling with the other invited guests for the first hour, the girl headed to pick up her dance card and to find her first partner. The initial two slots were taken by Fear and Pride. She stood next to Fear during the host’s welcome, rehearsing her steps in her head. Fear was a short, wiry man, with a handsome mask covering his entire face. She had found, in the past, that his dancing was halting and unrehearsed. Hopefully he won’t make a fool out of me tonight, she said to herself.

The music began. She and Fear began to sway in time. Suddenly, she felt as if every eye was on her and her partner as she tried to complete her new steps. She missed her turn, and because Fear didn't pull her back quickly enough, she was jostled by the other couples nearby. “Watch it!” Fear hissed. The girl’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment and she dutifully stepped back into her place. This is certainly not the greatest start to my night, she sighed.

That dance couldn't have been over soon enough. Next she met Pride, one of the few men who still even slightly caught her interest when he came to call. A tall, confident gentleman with a tasteful black mask, Pride was very noble and treated the girl with respect. He was very complimentary of her appearance, and she was able to finish her sequence beautifully during their dance together.

“Well done, madam!” Pride exclaimed as they moved together elegantly. “Your footwork is exquisite!” The young lady felt light-hearted and felt as if she truly might be getting closer to that perfection she had been reaching for. She curtsied gleefully when the dance was over and glanced at the names further down her card.

Truth, Hope, and Love, the next three words read. The girl had never met these men before. She slid the card into her pocket and looked up into the deep, unwavering eyes of the Unmasked Man. “You!” She exclaimed, startled. “Why are you here again?” What is he doing here? I’m not perfect yet! Her mind screamed.

The Man smiled graciously. “I believe I have a commitment to dance with you. In fact, I think I have your next three dances.” The girl then realized that this was her next partner. She knew that he was unfalteringly truthful, always hopeful, and eternally loving. Even so, her thoughts still quietly spoke pride into her. Perhaps he will be impressed with how far I've made it… She slowly took his hands and waited for the music.

The tempo was perfect for the new steps she had learned. As Truth, the Man was a confident lead and partner. Unfortunately, he was too good. The girl could not keep up with him and all of her training seemed to fail her as she stumbled. She tried to hide her bruised conscience, substituted her failed steps with quick strides, and attempted to keep up with Truth. It was certainly her poorest performance that evening. Why could she never seem to get it right? First, I rejected his offer to dance, and now, when I thought that I was ready, I can't even complete a basic turn with him!

“Remember what I told you?” Truth questioned, seeing her deflated expression. “You aren't worthy, and that doesn't matter. But you have also tried to make yourself worthy, which matters to me no more than your unworthiness. That’s the Truth, plain and simple. You can never dance beautifully, or take your mask off on your own account. Does this make sense?” The girl nodded sorrowfully as she realized she had missed the point.

“Don’t worry, dear.” The Man whispered as a tear slid down the girl’s face. “There’s still Hope.”

*****************************

I worked on my sin. I wanted to clean up the mess I had made of my life. I wanted to do something that would make God proud. I never realized that I can't make God proud. I did church stuff my whole life and did good things! I tried to follow all of the rules, and I prided myself on the ones I could keep. I really wanted to do big things for God, but I still wasn't quite willing to give up my mask and just rest in God’s love. Sadly, I didn’t easily learn that neither my words nor my works could help me in the end. Then, I finally found Hope.

The Masquerade Ball, Part 2 - "The Unmasked Man"

by An Orphan Crowned

“How did you know that I’m all alone today?

Oh, I feel so scared, and I want to go away

I bleed so deep underneath; my soul is screaming.”

-Natalie Grant, Safe

*****************************

(Continued from “Plastic Masquerade”)

The mask was there to stay. It was truly over. She would never get out. Or would she?

The Man knelt down next to the girl. She could hardly see Greed slinking back into the crowd through her mask and the tokens and the tears. Who is this Man? Is all of this real? I need to get away from here. The thoughts swirled around her like a hurricane as she tried to stand.

“Plastic...” The word just wouldn’t leave her alone. She slowly pulled herself together and stood up in front of the unmasked Man. Next to him, every impurity was fully realized. She could see all of the false beauty in herself. Nothing good existed in her. No wonder she felt like a manufactured person. She was just a name with an ordinary, perhaps ugly, face. She had no story to tell, no soul to be saved. Plastic with a mask on top of it all; that’s what she was. But though this Man made her feel so dirty, she also felt empowered from his gaze. She sensed the command he held over the entire room, and every eye was on him as he stretched his hand out… to her? “Would you like to dance?” He asked.

His words reached the depths of her soul and ripped it in two. His voice seemed to shake the room like an earthquake and stop her heart in the same instant. It was powerful, yet so gentle. She felt safe, yet vulnerable at the very same time. The girl desperately wanted to dance with him, but she knew he was more than just a good dancer. He must certainly be the creator of The First Dance at the beginning of time. He knew the language of this dance better than any other; he was so acquainted with it that it was engrained into his very being. There was no way she could accept this offer!

She closed her eyes and swallowed the anguish that threatened to choke her. She was lost in her silent misery for a moment before realizing that the Man still stood before her, offering his hand. “I… I cannot, sir.” She stuttered, her heart crumbling inside and tears filling her eyes.

“You think you aren’t worthy.” The Man stated. She couldn’t make her eyes meet his, for intense love poured from them. She nodded despairingly. “That doesn’t matter. Would you like to dance with me?” She started. All I’ve done wrong; and it doesn’t matter? How could that not matter?? 

As if the Man could read her thoughts, he announced to the crowd, “It doesn’t matter that you aren’t worthy, my friends. Let me tell you why.” The crowd grumbled, but they began to organize themselves in order to hear what this strange Man had to say.

The Man’s voice echoed powerfully through the dance hall as he told his tale. “I created the Dance. I called it beautiful, because it is a part of my nature, given its own life. Mankind has twisted the Dance into a masquerade of good intentions, and it grieves me greatly. I cannot be a partner for a mask wearer, because the order of the Dance would ultimately kill them. I sent my Son into the masquerade to free many from their masks. He took many of these coverings off of other people, leading the mask-makers to hate him, and me. They killed him.” At this, the Man’s face fell and the girl glimpsed a solitary tear run down his cheek. What an ending, the girl thought sadly. Why was he telling them a story like this?

“But it doesn’t end there.” The Man looked up. “My Son pleased me. He followed all of the orders of the Dance, and he embodied it completely. Where once I couldn’t be in your company because of your masks, you now can be a beautiful part of my Dance. And my Son, well, he defeated death. He lives today!” The Man opened his arms wide, gesturing to the people. “My Son died to free you from your mask. Trust in me and it will fall from your face.”

The girl, standing near the Man, felt the heavy tokens on her mask, their allure completely dissipated. She pulled them off and flung them to the floor until only the metal frame remained. Suddenly, horror struck the girl as she fingered the edges of the covering. It couldn’t come off the last time I tried; how would it be different now? Is it very painful? Do I really want to take the mask off all of the way? Her hands dropped to her side, leaving the mask on her face. Perhaps being a little cautious isn’t that bad. I don’t even know this Man! Why should I do what he says? The girl tried to justify her thoughts, but she knew what he said was the truth.

A sad smile rested on the Man’s face as he turned to her, and watched her struggle with her conflicted feelings. “My Son didn’t die so that I could tolerate your mask forever. Can I take it now?”

The girl frowned. “Let me just have it, just a little longer. I don’t know life without it."  She was amazed at her own boldness and disgusted at the question that came out of her mouth. “Is it not good that I am rid of all of these other tokens?”

The Man didn’t look very surprised. “These tokens don’t matter to me. It will hurt when the mask comes off, but you are also free to choose to keep it. After all, you are not fooling me. Would you like to dance?”

The question stung this time. How she wanted to dance with the Man! But she had to work on her attitude, she could tell. She was disrespecting his offer immensely, and he surely didn’t actually want to dance with someone like her. “Perhaps later. Thank you for your offer, sir.” She curtsied and turned away from the perfect Man, trying to mend her heart as it began to shatter entirely.

*****************************

I spent a LOT of my life refusing to give God control. Like the girl in this story, I encountered God and his rules before I accepted his gift of salvation. Though I knew a lot of things were wrong in my life, I didn’t follow his commands. When I got to the actual point where I was free to take my mask off, I was snared by fear and tried to hold tight to the familiar. I didn’t believe that God could change my life at all, because this sin and these masks weren’t going away. This led me to spend countless nights feeling hopeless, even though I could have been saved from a lot of heartache if I had learned the concept of Grace a little sooner. Unfortunately, I had to learn it the hard way. 

The Masquerade Ball, Part 1 - "Plastic Masquerade"

by An Orphan Crowned

“Painted on, life is behind a mask

Self-inflicted circus clown

I'm tired of the song and dance

Living a charade, always on parade

What a mess I've made of my existence.”

-Natalie Grant, “The Real Me”

*****************************

“Worthless," Her partner muttered, noticing her weariness from dancing, and he deftly wove through the many dancers to the side of the room. The colors of the beautifully dressed crowd swirled around her in a blur. She couldn't see any details because of the speed of the dance.

“So ugly.” He smirked. They reached the edge of the mass of revelers, where the man let go of her hands. This wasn't what she had asked for. She couldn't stand it much longer. Certainly he had run out of insults by now.

“Hopeless.” Maybe not. She steadied herself and curtsied to the young man, whose face was hidden behind the slate gray mask. She did catch his sly smile, and he placed his token on her mask, whispering a final word before moving away. “Plastic.”

The girl pulled her dance card out of her pocket and read the names of the men she had danced with that evening. Pride, Lust, Anger, Sorrow, Fear, and the man who had just walked away, Lies. She was beginning to believe that she might, indeed, be turning into a plastic person.

I've been present long enough a time, she thought. Maybe I might slip away unseen. She was having a good time, for sure, but her mask was making her very tired. It had gotten heavy with all of the tokens the men had given her.

I wonder if I might take it off, just for a minute. She knew that tonight was the night she had to keep it on, and to keep it together. Maybe tomorrow she'd let it off. She had no intentions of anyone seeing her face tonight. It was far too different and, oh, what others would say! How they would ridicule her! No, she told herself adamantly. The mask must stay.

A wicked grin close to her face startled her and she looked up into the eyes of Greed, her next companion. He was very handsome and, after the initial scare, he began to look like a promising dance. And it was a good dance. He knew his steps perfectly and the two waltzed together in a wonderful rhythm.

The dance was over too soon, and she wished to dance with him just a little longer. He placed his token, a golden ring, on her mask and hissed in her ear, “More… you know you want more. You will always want more from me.” A wave of fear washed over the girl as she realized the truth in his statement.

She was suddenly startled again, as a man swiftly stepped between the two of them. In a crowd like this, one quickly noticed his odd choice of attire - a simple shirt and slacks, and no mask. What fool was this, stepping in front of Greed, and disrespecting several of the rules of the ball at the same time?

"Where's your mask? You cannot dance without one!" Greed yelled at this strange man and tried to push his way through. "She has another dance with me; look at her card!"

"Let's look, then!" The Man agreed and turned to the girl. Truth flowed from his being to her heart. She had never seen anyone without a mask. But this man, something was very different about this man. He seemed brighter than the others in this room. He looked better, more real, than all of the others in the room. In fact, he made everyone else look fake. So very fake. Plastic, the girl thought; and knew that she was just that.

Suddenly, the girl knew how desperately she truly wanted to take off her own mask. She could be like this Man and maybe some of the others would join her. It didn't matter what people said! She grabbed at the strings of her covering, only to realize with horror that they wouldn't untie. She pulled frantically at her mask, but it had adhered to her own skin. She fell to the floor in a heap as she realized that she couldn't take the covering off. It was over.

The mask was there to stay. Forever a plastic person, she would be. She would never get out.

Or would she?

*****************************

This story was inspired by a true one. The girl was me. A lot of the time, it still is me. The word plastic describes me so well. I've “danced” with many of these sins before and there was a point when this story was the ultimate reality. Plastic is who I became. I'd “dance;” then I’d get tired. I've tried to think my way out, but I would always choose to leave the mask on, because if I didn't, others would see the truth. That truth, sadly, wasn't an option.

I tried, like the girl, to take my own mask off and be like the unmasked Man, or Christ, but there was no way to do it, not by myself. I tried for a very long time to do it on my own, but it left me broken. Dirty. Helpless. Alone. So very alone. I felt betrayed by everyone, even God. There was no way to get out. Or so I thought. Then I realized what was missing. But that part of the story is yet to be told.