Naked and Unashamed

Vulnerability is hard. Someone once explained vulnerability as the feeling when you stand in front of a crowd of people and take off all of your clothes.  Your exposed.  They can only see your true self.  There is no mask, no where to hide, nothing can be covered. Everything is out in the open. Often times overwhelming fear of rejection clings to vulnerability like a fish to water. A downward spiral of "what ifs" can so easily consume you, debilitate you, turning you so inward to yourself that your mind becomes a prison instead of the gift God created it to be.  

I refuse. I refuse to give in to the idea that vulnerability is weakness, that failure is for only "certain" types of "people", and crying is designated for the meek. I believe that openness is the key to relationships and that vulnerability can solve more problems and bring you closer together.  Telling the truth evokes fear. One fear that cycles through my mind is the fear that once I lay down my mask, assert myself, and am the true me, I will be rejected.  I am starting to see though, how beautiful vulnerability is, how it bonds people like nothing else can, and how it free's us like nothing else will. Honesty brings new life, it extends our hearts to those around us- whose stories we hear and insecurities we never saw lurking behind the life we so easily envied. 

The feeling to know you are loved for exactly who you are is what we all want in life.  It starts with being vulnerable.  

I haven't written in 10 months. It would be easy to say that these past months have been a "challenge" and that God has been faithful and now I am coming through the rough season and the future looks brighter.  It would be a post wrapped neatly with a bow, but it wouldn't be real.  Vagueness doesn't equate to vulnerability.  

I haven't been writing because I have been living with my parents, going to a counselor on a weekly basis, and overcoming crippling anxiety and post traumatic stress.  I was afraid of everything and everyone.  I couldn't go to the grocery store alone and I felt debilitated at the thought of asking the store clerk where something was.  I didn't go to church, I couldn't even go to the gym.  Any interaction with people was overwhelming.  I felt like a total failure. I went to England to serve the Lord and came home before I was even half way through.  I cried everyday, I had nightmares, and had this fear that I was a terrible person.  Every insecurity was magnified, staring me in the face as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  

I have had to find myself again, to learn everyday who God has created me to be and to celebrate that.  I have allowed God's love to run deep in my soul, showing me time and time again that His love for me is not based on what I do or don't do.  I am learning to assert myself and set boundaries, to voice my opinion in the smallest things, like which restaurant to eat at. I completely lost my voice, who I was became swallowed up by paralyzing fear.  Slowly, yet faithfully God has been healing my heart.  He has been restoring the broken pieces and solidifying my identity in Christ.  He is opening doors and providing opportunities to break through the walls my anxiety has built around me. I'm not there yet, while I feel so much better than I did three months ago, I still have so much to learn, so much fear to conquer.  My life is not neat, it is not pure bliss nor will it ever be.  I am human and this is life. I am trying to learn from the pain, and seek God wholeheartedly.  Even my walk with the Lord has not been easy. There were days when I couldn't pray, couldn't read my bible. Times where I would question God, raise my voice, and feel so much anger.  

We tend to portray a level of confidence thin enough to feel the pain but wide enough to mask the depth of our insecurities.  On social media, we share the highlights of our lives but fail to connect face to face when it truly matters.  Being open with ourselves, God, and others is the only way we can move forward and find healing.  The more we bury our emotions, hurts, and fear the greater erosion they will cause in our lives.  Trust me, I tried that, telling myself I was fine, I was a women of strength, an overcomer, jumping back into ministry (with a high level of demand at that) to come to the realization I indeed was not at all fine but on my way to a complete burn out. 

Sharing your feelings, breaking down in tears, taking a step back, is not weakness and saying everything is alright, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion, keeping "face", is not strength either. A wise woman once told me, "sometimes perseverance is taking a step back in order to take care of yourself so that you can then persevere for the long term." Likewise, sometimes strength is having the courage to be honest with yourself and your loved ones, saying this is what I am dealing with, these are my fears, this is what I am insecure about.  We can only help each other to the extent that we know what the other person needs, we only know their needs if we know what got them there in the first place. 

I will conclude with saying that you are wonderful and that I want to know the real you, checked baggage and all.  When I ask how you are, I mean it-I want to hear your story, I want to know how I can pray for you, how I can be there for you.  

Love is so much sweeter when you are loved for your authentic self, and you are worth loving.  You are worth being known for who you are.  The depth of a relationship is only as deep as our hearts are open.  Trust me on this one, it's worth it to be vulnerable and to connect, to conquer the fear with genuine love for ourselves and others.