I have spent many hours this week on hold with several kind customer service representatives trying to help me hack back into my life. Sadly, about two weeks ago, while syncing my phone to my computer, I must have unknowingly checked some box that indicated that I didn’t want to transfer my apps from my phone to my computer…because why, when you are doing a backup, would you want to preserve all of the data from your phone to your computer? How absurd! Alas, the app with all of my stored usernames and passwords has vanished into thin air. And along with that, my ability to buy plane tickets, renew my hospital privileges, and redeem my Kroger coupons. Apparently, my Pinterest account, my email, and my DEA number, among dozens of other password protected elements of my life, all require me to remember the secret combination of letters, numbers, punctation marks and symbols to obtain full access. Most of these passwords are similar combinations of obscure words and numbers that have some meaning to me, but probably none to you. Some passwords could be reset via email or a requested temporary password. Others required a phone call. Regardless, while it’s annoying, I’ve been able to get back into my life and keep getting things done.

It’s kind of amazing to me the amount of our lives that is actually hidden behind a username and password. I think many of us feel like we live very public lives because of our use of social media, but in fact, I believe that much of us, our hearts, our minds, our deepest beliefs and worries, are actually “password protected”.  We have hundreds of friends on FaceBook and followers on Twitter and Instagram, but virtually all of us filter what we choose to post, share, or tweet, for fear of offending or alienating any of our friends or followers, or simply exposing ourselves beyond comfort. But there is something about the way we are wired that moves us to need a few people who know our “password”…who know us deeply, who have full access to our hearts and minds. For those of us who do way too much introspective overthinking, when we start talking to our “password” friends, we feel a tremendous sense of relief! As it is said, Confession is good for the soul.

There aren’t too many people who have my “password”, but Scott, my husband, has “all access”. We talk deeply, honestly. He knows what worries me. He knows my heart. And we both know that we each need a few other people in our lives who have the “password”, who we trust, who can be frank and forthright with us. I believe God created us to need these kinds of friends. I believe we are wired to live life together and live it deeply, sometimes, painfully, with one another. I am incredibly grateful for the handful of people in my life who have the “password” to my heart…they know me, we trust each other, we challenge each other, we support each other.

While the metaphor is a little silly, the concept is the same: We need more than ourselves. We need more than the public persona. We need community. Deep, honest, “password protected” community. I hope we can all name our “password” friends and family and thank them for their investment in us. And let’s strive to protect our “passwords” better than I did my app.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.