Poets & Saintsنموونە

Vulnerability Breeds Vulnerability

After spending the past twenty-five years in the soil of people’s lives and dealing with my own human frailty, I suspect that many readers are uncomfortable with the powerful truth that confronts them in the great tale Till We Have Faces. Lewis chronicled the story of Orual, a woman who lives with a veil shrouding her face because she feels great shame from her physical imperfections and other shortcomings. This veil is her fabricated, self-made persona. It not only masks her true identity; it also acts as a shield that protects her from being truly known by others.

Vulnerability doesn’t come easy. But when it comes, it brings life.

Sitting around the table in this legendary pub, each of us chimed in about how we desire to be our authentic selves, and how hard that can be.

I talked about how I have a tendency to qualify what I say to soften the blow of my words for the one with whom I might disagree.

Leslie shared about when she first started leading worship in our church. Right after the service was over, she would pack up her guitar as quickly as possible and sneak out the back door lest anyone stop her and ask questions she wasn’t sure she could answer.

Sarah talked about how she’s tempted to stay silent during conflict. She can’t say anything wrong if she doesn’t say anything at all.

David admitted that being part of a docu-study like this project was intimidating. Because he’s passionate about music and production, not books, he feared he would have nothing to contribute.

As friends who shared a common purpose, we were experiencing ourselves as brothers and sisters in the family of God. Not only was it safe to be vulnerable about our shortcomings, it was also freeing. In that moment we were removing our veils. Our masks were off. And as we revealed our fears, they lost their power.

I spoke directly.

Leslie stayed put.

Sarah spoke up.

David contributed.

Brené Brown notes that “we cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness, and affection. Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them.”

We have such high expectations for people, don’t we? The way they park their vehicles, their level of politeness at a drive-through window, the size of their smiles when they greet us at the front door of a church. And the ones closest to us? How often do we push them away in our determination to get them to conform to our image? Constant evaluation and incessant reminders of shortcomings produce constraint, limitation, and shame, not freedom and reciprocity.

Love doesn’t force.

Love keeps no record of wrongs.

Love hopes.

Love invites.

There is no such thing as instant community. A relationship is an experience built on moments of relating. The greater the accumulation and flavor of these moments, the deeper the relationship. The more we let go of our perfectionism, the more honest and genuine those moments will be.

When was the last time you caught a glimpse of your true self?

When was the last time you felt comfortable in your own skin?