Becoming Vulnerable (Pt. 1)

In the past, and by that I mean a few weeks ago, I discovered that I had made work and my ability to work my god. I had begun to consider working for God equal to loving God and believed that sacrifice would earn me a slot in heaven. I wanted so badly to be in a place of honor before God that I idolized the human desire for perfection and saving face over the truths of forgiveness, redemption and grace. I became prideful in my abilities, and as a result what were meant for gifts became chains. I feared my needs and saw neediness as a sign of insecurity, incompetence and incapability. Burnout was a quick term that meant "You are weak, lazy and unwilling to work hard enough to push through, to persevere". I feared trusting others. The words "group work" made my ears bleed. The idea of dependence on another to complete my tasks was gut wrenching. And last, but not least, vulnerability was out of the question.



To be vulnerable meant that I was open for attack. That at any moment anyone or anything could hurt me. Life has taught me to guard myself. Broken trust and physical abuses have left me fearful to leave myself open in anyway. I have struggled to see that my inability to be vulnerable has made me not only unable to love, but unable to receive love. So, I have adorned myself with protection. Education and achievement have been my shield. If I can play the game and place myself high enough up I become untouchable, unbreakable, unable to be harmed. This is a truly lonely road.


The beautiful thing is in the midst of all of this stone has always been a heart. A heart that has been created for and is known by God. A heart that still beats and bleeds regardless of being deeply buried and burned. Our God is victorious, even over death--physically, mentally and spiritually.


Just recently I told a friend of mine that I longed for simplicity. I wanted to live where there was very little physically for me to hide behind. From make-up and clothes to computers and television I wanted to be materially stripped down to a minimum.


One day God said to me, "It is good to live simply. What is more is that I want you to be stripped down mentally and emotionally so that you are open to me spiritually. And do not worry about how this will happen. Trust me. Trust is the beginning of vulnerability." The moment God put that word upon my heart I was in pain. I'd been vulnerable, especially as a child. Here I am twenty-two, a college graduate, at the top of my game (or so I thought), and I am supposed to be vulnerable again. It felt as if God were asking me to strip down naked and stand in public. I realize now though that even when I was protecting myself I wasn't safe. I was able to hurt myself.  Furthermore, I locked God out isolating myself from His healing power.


All of this is not to say that I will never be hurt. Pain is a reality of life--after all, we are only promised a cross. What it does mean though, is that I am open to a real healing and genuine relationship with Christ. A relationship in which I can be real and honest about who I am, where I am at and God will meet me there.


God is helping me to reclaim my natural self. The one who has no earthly adornment, but is open is to being loved simply for being. The one who does not work for a place in her Father's kingdom and is open to both the giving and receiving of love regardless of accomplishment, education or achievement.  The one who can be still and know, who can sit and by God's grace be moved to stand and walk.


God has not forgotten my heart of service. The strength in Jesus ministry was not in His power per say, but in His vulnerability. Being vulnerable may be risky, but trusting God and being vulnerable to God is real and allows one to truly serve others as Christ. This is not to say that I expect that I will never be hurt. I live on the earth. The same earth upon which the Messiah was crucified. BUT, Christ vulnerability, His sacrifice, gave way to redemption.


I have sought redemption through my own work and protection, but that has left me in chains. I am no longer afraid to leave my prison garb behind to be clothed in the arms of God the Father. It is in this place of vulnerability that the reality of Christ's redeeming act becomes real. It is at this point where God can help me enter into a life that is truly led by the Spirit.