This is a whole different kind if Wear It Wednesday, taken from the kind of wear it when something you've done that is wrong or embarrassing is put on display and you have to "wear it".
Appropriately, the urban dictionary informs me, the term also has a meaning to do with drinking - being drunk or hungover.
Appropriate because I used to drink. I used to bringe drink, which is a big part of the reason why I don't drink alcohol at all anymore.
The first reason is because I don't actually like the taste. But that obviously isn't a big enough reason in itself, because I still used to do it.
From year 11 until early in my fourth year of uni, I used to binge drink. In high school it was once every weekend that I could get away with it. By the end, while I was studying in England and traveling in Europe it was as many nights a week as I could get away with.
I was a mess. Frequently I would drink until I was sick, or at least until I made a complete fool of myself. I felt desperate. I thought I wanted to feel something, to feel belonging, to make everything easy and fun - but in reality I wanted to feel nothing. I wanted to feel nothing because that's all I truly believed there was - nothing really worth having. Or nothing real that I was worthy of having.
And so I drank until oblivion would let me forget for a while that I was desperate.
Even though my time living in England has some of the best memories of my life, it was also my lowest point.
It shows you the amazing capability we have as humans to cope and function in a sort of half life, and fool ourselves that it is full.
The saddest thing is that nobody noticed my despair. Nobody did anything about my drinking,, other than to make sure I got home safely. Nobody did anything, because it was normal. I was just another drunk girl who needed to be put in a taxi home. My friends may have found it annoying those times they had to look after me, but that was it. It was normal.
Imagine if I came to church so drunk I couldn't walk straight. I'm pretty sure there'd be a reaction. Depending on the church and the people, it might be a judgmental, unloving reaction - or it might not - but either way there would be a reaction.
And shouldn't there be? Shouldn't it make you think "What is happening in this persons life, their heart, their soul, that they have ended up this way? They need to know the love and freedom that is available! Dont let them miss out and struggle on a minute longer! Love them!"
The thing is, those people don't come into our churches. I didn't. At my worst point I hadn't been to church for years, and even though I was starting to admit to myself I still did believe in God, I wouldn't have set foot in a church. I couldn't. I felt too ashamed. I felt like I would be judged and rejected for my failures.
Maybe I wouldn't have been - there are many welcoming loving churches out there. But there are manny desperate people out there who feel the church is the last place they will find love and acceptance.
So for the first time - because normally I avoid telling people (Christians) the truth about those years of my life - I'm wearing it.
The urban dictionary says wearing it is about being humiliated. Fortunately for me, I know longer feel shame about it. Fortunately for all of us, there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. (Romans 8:1)
Because Jesus already 'wore it'. Everything. All our sins. Every. Single. One.
There is no fear or shame, but love, mercy, grace and forgiveness.
And a desperate world out there who needs what we've got.