The Church Doesn't Need Perfect People, It Needs Real People
I went to church without makeup.
Now, let’s get something straight—I am far from a diva when it comes to my appearance. I often go to the grocery store, preschool pickup, the library, and anywhere else really without a bit of makeup on my face. My hair is usually pulled into a messy bun—not the deliberate kind, the I haven’t washed my hair in days kind. But Sundays are the one day each week I attempt to pull myself together before leaving the house.
This particular Sunday, though, life was not cooperating. Our normal, controlled chaos was just chaos. I barely had a chance to throw on jeans and a sweater, let alone spend time on my makeup, no matter how quick and simple the routine.
So . . . I went to church without makeup.
And you know what? It didn’t matter. No one commented on my appearance, no one stared, no one loved me any less.
And isn’t that how it should be? Shouldn’t church be the one place we can go without makeup?
The place we can be real and authentic.
The place our forced smile can fade allowing our true struggle to show.
The place we go to find real, unfiltered love from real, unfiltered brothers and sisters.
Maybe when we put makeup on to go to church, we’re doing it all wrong.
Instead of hiding behind a facade of happiness, shouldn’t we open up and reveal our realities? Jesus said come to me all who are weary with heavy burdens. And if the church is a reflection of Christ, shouldn’t we be saying the same thing?
Come to me all who don’t fit in.
Come to me all who have been rejected.
Come to me all who have been hurt and betrayed.
Come to me all who are exhausted, worn, and weak.
Come to me all who are desperate for hope.
Come to me all who need encouragement and love.
Come to me with your bare face and raw heart.
Come to me and let me love you.
Because isn’t that how it should be? Shouldn’t church be the one place we can go without makeup?
So, please, come to church—even on the mornings you don’t have time to put yourself together.
I want to sit next to you. I want to see your bare face and hear your real story. I want to be the church who loves like Jesus. I want to be the reason you feel comfortable walking through those doors just as you are.
Please join me—I’ll be the one without makeup.
Originally published on Her View From Home