Weekend Writing Prompt #140- Through the Psalms

Behold, thou desireth truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom.

--Psalm 51:6

https://pwecommunity.com/post/wwp140

The Mask She Wore

Bella zipped her jacket to the neck and hefted her backpack onto her shoulders. She covered a wince

with her well-practiced smile, the one Chad Martin had described as “a thousand-watts lighting up the whole campus.” Today, it felt more like a shield she couldn’t let down.

She stepped out of the Montgomery Auditorium and descended the steps. The October breeze rustled through magnolia trees and bit at her cheeks and fingers. She practiced her script as she made her way down the sidewalk. “I’m good! Just tired. Pray for clarity during midterms.” By the time she got to this evening’s bible study, she would have the delivery down pat. It was true enough.

Her phone buzzed. She tugged it from her pocket and read the text from Jane.

You coming tonight? Let me know if you want to grab coffee first.

Bella hesitated for a moment. Jane’s gaze had seemed intense a few days ago, searching Bella’s eyes as if she knew another answer existed. 

Bella rebuked her ever-growing sense of paranoia and texted back.

Coffee sounds great! 530?

It was warm inside Hot Shots Coffee and the smell of cinnamon and roasted beans enveloped her. Jane was already set up at the corner table with coffee in hand and a journal open beside her bible. She waved as Bella stepped up to the counter to order. Instead of the Joe Dirt Macchiato she usually ordered, Bella opted for an iced vanilla Chai tea breve. Maybe the spicy sweetness would settle her nerves.

“Hey, Bella, how are you you?” Jane asked.

Bella flashed her trademark smile. “I’m good! Just tired.”

Intensity returned to Jane’s eyes. She lowered her voice and leaned in. “No, really. How are you?”

Bella shifted in her chair. So what if the late nights and the pressure to make good grades were overwhelming at times. It was just part of college life— just the normal stress of becoming an adult. She shrugged nonchalantly. “Really, I’m fine.” She would never tell Jane about the constant feeling of falling short. Jane would never understand, she did have it all together. 

Later that night as a small prayer group gathered after the bible study, Bella sat in a circle of folding chairs. She held her breath as Jane shared her story with the group. Jane talked about battling a suffocating depression last year that nearly swallowed her up, and how she had learned to trust God through the darkest nights.

“Somehow, after God filled me with the Holy Ghost,” Jane’s voice broke and she turned tearful eyes to Bella, “I got this crazy idea that I had to be perfect for God to keep loving me.”

Bella’s throat tightened as Jane reached out to grasp her trembling hands.

“But God doesn’t want our perfect mask,” Jane continued. “He wants our truth— even the messy, hidden parts.”

Bella fought tears. She had been hiding for so long— behind her grades and Instagram pics. No one saw the doubts that engulfed her thoughts like a storm or the panic attacks that jolted her awake night after night. 

Jane looked around the circle, pausing to peer at each person. Some nodded agreement. Tears ran freely down one girl’s cheeks. Jane’s gaze drifted to the ceiling and she gave Bella’s hands a squeeze. “Psalm fifty-one and six says, ‘behold, thou desireth truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom.” Jane clasped her hands together over her heart. “God doesn’t just want our polished prayers. He wants our real heart.”

The Spirit fell and everyone began to pray in unison— except Bella. She covered her face with her hands and wept. She couldn’t remember the last time she spoke in tongues. Even in prayer, she was a fraud.

Back in her dorm room, when sleep remained elusive, Bella pulled her journal from a drawer and glanced through some pages. Even here, alone with her own thoughts and feelings, she had been vague and superficial— unwilling to admit to the slightest doubt or concern. She turned to a fresh page and picked up a pen. At first, the words were difficult and slow to come, then they poured out.

God, I’m so tired of pretending, but I don’t know how to stop. What would people think of me if they knew what a mess I was? I’m supposed to be a light that leads people to you— not a pity magnet. What would happen if they knew I was scared all the time and anxiety steals my sleep? What would happen to my testimony then? You really want the truth? I’m a poor witness. I don’t know how to be myself. I’m always afraid. I get panic attacks. I don’t think I measure up. I don’t want to be a fraud. I don’t want to live like this. I wish I could take this mask off and throw it away, but everything is so messed up— I don’t even know where to start or what to pray for.

She stopped writing when the words blurred. Slowly, the tears subsided and she was left with an unfamiliar sense of relief. It wasn’t like everything was fixed. She knew it wasn’t, but for the first time in a long time, she was honest— with herself and with God. 

The next morning, Jane invited Bella to breakfast. Over pancakes and scrambled eggs, Bella told Jane everything. About the late-night panic attacks. About the hidden fears and self-doubt. The tears that came more often now. And the way she used her smile as a shield.

Jane listened without judgement. 

When Bella finished talking, Jane reached across the table to squeeze her hands. “Thank you for telling me. I knew something was wrong. It took a lot of courage for you to share that. I promise you: God loves you. Even in this— especially in this.”

Little by little, in the weeks that followed, Bella began to open up with intention and share her real self more freely. She still had hard days, but she didn’t hide anymore. And each time she chose the truth of her flaws instead of a mask of perfection, she felt God’s presence in her life more deeply.

One evening, alone in her dorm room, she paused to watch the sun setting behind the campus library. She whispered the verse again in the quiet space: “Behold, thou desireth truth in the inward parts…”

The words covered her like the balm of Gilead, penetrating to her very core. She didn’t have to be perfect to be loved by God. She wasn’t unworthy because of her flaws or doubts. She didn’t have to pretend to have it all together. She just had to be real, because that was where God’s wisdom and peace began. 

Tears began to flow. Not the frightened tears of anxiety, but a joyous overflowing of pure love. She lifted her hands above her head and her lips began to tremble. Bella yielded to the Spirit of God within and without. Praise and thanksgiving poured forth as the Spirit gave the utterance. She had never felt more seen, more loved, or more free.

(C) 2025 Wendi S. Harrington

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Original blog post can be found at https://pwecommunity.com/post/prompted-the-mask-she-wore.