Voluntary Vulnerability

A few evenings ago, I was about to unscrew the lid of a toothpaste tube, when something fell from it onto the sink.  It looked a bit like an anaemic creepy-crawly, but was actually a blob of creamy brown sludge.  In the pot where we stand our toothbrushes (thankfully, brush-end up), there turned out to be quite a collection of said sludge.  I'd better add that to the things I pay attention to when cleaning the bathroom.  It didn't feel like the best way to end one of those days when the mundane tasks of life feel a bit overwhelming!  (My lovely mum reads this blog...perhaps she'll come and clean again soon. 😉)

Sometimes, when I listen to a sermon audio from a relatively prominent speaker, or read a book that contains personal anecdotes, I find myself wondering how it becomes ok to refer negatively to others.  I don't even mean by exposing a scandal, just by telling of a significant hurt caused, perhaps as an example or illustration.  Whilst I don't know the speaker or writer, I imagine that for those who have been part of their lives, there's potential for wondering who they're referring to, or even working it out.  A dear friend of mine, when writing her first book,* wrestled with this issue because her story had been so shaped by the actions and omissions of others, but in sharing it she sought to point to God's transformation, rather than dish the dirt.

We live lives that are so interwoven.  Our experiences influence what we may carry forward in impressions, concerns, and even ideals.  These can't be isolated from the people involved.  For this reason, there is plenty that goes on in me that I don't feel I can write openly about here.  To do so would implicate some who have contributed to pain that I haven't felt able to address directly with them.  I am, though, free to write about my own vulnerabilities, whether overwhelmed by toothpaste sludge, recognising the residues of mental ill-health, or concerned about being judged over-sensitive or unstable, pushy or even arrogant.  That can be scary, because without a backstory, these could be seen as pathetic flaws.

I've a deep conviction, though, that ongoing, voluntary vulnerability is actually not weakness at all.  It takes considerable strength to allow others to see us struggle, and then to move forward without really clearing up the possibility of being misunderstood.  We who seek to follow Jesus badly need to foster this kind of strength, rather than the illusion of invulnerability.  The only way, I find, is to take all my passion, mistakes, efforts, hopes and fears to God, holding it all with open hands and asking the Holy Spirit to show me where I need to change and grow in the way of Christ.  This guards against unhealthy self-preservation, whether through withdrawing from others or fighting to justify myself.  

I recently came across a social media post that both challenged and encouraged me.  It expressed the writer's sense of inadequacy when something they say gets a lot of exposure, and this reminded me that no amount of being heard or affirmed by others will ever provide true security.  Where we base our identity is essentially between each of us and our Creator, but in my experience, one of life's most beautiful privileges is to share the journey to deeper-rootedness with those who are willing to be mutually vulnerable.

Whether you read this blog from a distance, bump into me on a feeling-pressured kind of day, or visit our home when we're not exactly on top of the chores, I'm quite determined to offer you voluntary vulnerability.  If my security is truly found in Jesus, and I'm living in the light of that, then I'll have nothing to hide and nothing to prove.⬦

* God Split the Sea, by Anne Donaldson, is available for collection from me or to purchase on Amazon.

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