Vulnerable
When I was little, I always had a fear of riding a bike. In fact, it took me a long time--much longer than it took my other friends---before I felt comfortable riding around the neighborhood. And all this fear was rooted in falling off that bike. I was terrified to fall off my bike and hurt myself. I had seen countless injuries from my friends, from broken bones to scraped knees. I remember my parents teaching me that I can't be scared to fall if I wanted to ride a bike. I had to learn how to fall first.
So I practiced falling.
Over and over again, I fell onto the grass until I felt comfortable enough to get on my bike and fall off. And what do you know...I overcame my fear and even walked away with a couple of battle scars of my own to show my friends.
Our relationship with God needs to be just like this. We need to be willing to fall in order for Him to catch us.
When I first went to school in Georgia, I thought I would be safe from the world. With over 27,000 privately owned acres and an emphasis in Christian values, I thought that my faith would remain as strong as it did when I graduated high school. Unfortunately, I was wrong. My freshman and sophomore year, I tried to find a church to call home while I was there. This was already hard for me because I was anxious and didn't like to stray from things I already knew. I thought I had found one at first and it was still very different from what I was used to. (I grew up in a Methodist Church and found myself at a Baptist one.)
I quickly found out that the church wasn't for me. The people there, while welcoming towards the new college students, looked down on me because of my tattoos and piercings. They would smile politely and greet me in the morning, but would then turn away and shoot ugly glances back at me, talking about how "awful it was that I permanently marred my body for pleasure". I walked away from that church, feeling like an outcast and unwanted.
The second church I found was geared mainly towards college students. Berry students built up the main body and I would even see professors there from time to time. However, I was still treated as an outcast. My friends I went with at the time didn't even try to include me in their groups and I always had to ask if it was okay if I joined them on Sunday morning. (If they are your true friends, you should never have to ask if it was okay that you went to church with them or that you sat by them.)
By my junior year, I had stopped going to church on Sundays. And then I started dating.
I can go into my dating relationships another time, but to keep it short, these relationships led me even further from God. I was coerced into doing a lot of things I did not want to do. I was laughed at when I did something they deemed 'weird' or 'ridiculous'. I wasn't allowed to like specific things I used to like. I was introduced to alcohol for the first time on a first name basis. I got drunk for the first time. My physical boundaries and limits were pushed and tested and eventually broken by one of the people I was supposed to trust the most.
I blamed God. I hid from God. I closed myself up to the idea of a God being truly there for me.
Fast forward to a couple months ago.
I will be honest. I have been the biggest hypocrite. I sinned daily and yet called myself a Christian. I would go to church every so often and act the part and dress the part and hide myself away. Even being at home, where I loved my church and my church family, I began to use work as an excuse to not go on Sundays. I found myself almost as far from God as the day I began to self harm.
I began to realize that something was missing from my life. Something I couldn't exactly put a finger on. I began to try to attend church more often. And every time I did, I would break down in tears because I felt like I didn't deserve to be there.
Then, one Sunday, we had a message about being with people who build you up in your faith rather than tear you down. And, once again, I broke down in tears as I realized, it had been years since I had a group of people like that. Yes, I had friends who were Christians and friends who weren't. But I hadn't had a close knit group of people to share my faith and struggles with since high school. And that's where my problem was rooted.
I began to listen to praise and worship music again. I have it on anytime I'm in the car and anytime I'm cleaning the house. I began to do devotionals again. They are just week-long ones on my Bible app, but they are helping immensely. Then, I made myself do that thing I was the most scared to do. I sat down and wrote an email. (I know. Scary, right?)
I poured my heart out to someone at my church that I had looked up to for years. She was starting a small group in the fall, and if I had to pick any small group, it would be hers. But, I told her how scared I was and how broken I felt all the time. I mean, I was sobbing by the time I finished the email. It was the most vulnerable I had felt in years. As soon as I pressed, send, the fear hit.
What is she going to say?
Is she going to feel sorry for me?
Is she going to laugh at me?
Is she even going to respond?
But I swallowed those fears and moved forward with my week. And what do you know...she responded the next day. She told me how thankful she was for me to have opened up to her. Then she told me something I will never forget:
"Vulnerability is where the GOOD stuff happens with the Lord."
SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK.
Vulnerability is hard. It's hard with people. It's hard with ourselves. It's even hard with God. But in order to shine for and through him, we must be broken. We must allow ourselves to be vulnerable in order for God to do his work in us. We have to remember that God intentionally uses weak people time after time to do his best work. We we recognize that we are weak and we show that weakness to God, we can stop this façade and look to God for our redemption.
Our story DOES NOT end in brokenness.
Let me remind you of a little story in the book of Matthew. You might have heard of it. It's the one where Jesus tells Peter to walk on water with him. Yeah...that's the one. Take a look at that story in more detail. Jesus commands Peter to come and walk on the water towards him. Peter steps out of the boat (on his own accord) and begins to walk towards Jesus. It's only when he remembers the waves and focuses on his own humanity that he begins to sink.
When being vulnerable with ourselves and with God, we have to remember the He is greater than the waves. We can't do this whole life thing alone. We just can't. And we knew that before we stepped out of the boat. But, luckily for us, God is bigger than the waves we focus on.
He. Is. Bigger.
I am excited for this next chapter in my life. I am more willing than ever to be open and vulnerable to people I meet and especially to God. Like the title of my blog says, sometimes we need to pray with our eyes wide open in order to be absolutely vulnerable with God. And that's when the good stuff starts happening.
So I practiced falling.
Over and over again, I fell onto the grass until I felt comfortable enough to get on my bike and fall off. And what do you know...I overcame my fear and even walked away with a couple of battle scars of my own to show my friends.
Our relationship with God needs to be just like this. We need to be willing to fall in order for Him to catch us.
When I first went to school in Georgia, I thought I would be safe from the world. With over 27,000 privately owned acres and an emphasis in Christian values, I thought that my faith would remain as strong as it did when I graduated high school. Unfortunately, I was wrong. My freshman and sophomore year, I tried to find a church to call home while I was there. This was already hard for me because I was anxious and didn't like to stray from things I already knew. I thought I had found one at first and it was still very different from what I was used to. (I grew up in a Methodist Church and found myself at a Baptist one.)
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| My first tattoo: Seratonin |
The second church I found was geared mainly towards college students. Berry students built up the main body and I would even see professors there from time to time. However, I was still treated as an outcast. My friends I went with at the time didn't even try to include me in their groups and I always had to ask if it was okay if I joined them on Sunday morning. (If they are your true friends, you should never have to ask if it was okay that you went to church with them or that you sat by them.)
By my junior year, I had stopped going to church on Sundays. And then I started dating.
I can go into my dating relationships another time, but to keep it short, these relationships led me even further from God. I was coerced into doing a lot of things I did not want to do. I was laughed at when I did something they deemed 'weird' or 'ridiculous'. I wasn't allowed to like specific things I used to like. I was introduced to alcohol for the first time on a first name basis. I got drunk for the first time. My physical boundaries and limits were pushed and tested and eventually broken by one of the people I was supposed to trust the most.
I blamed God. I hid from God. I closed myself up to the idea of a God being truly there for me.
Fast forward to a couple months ago.
I will be honest. I have been the biggest hypocrite. I sinned daily and yet called myself a Christian. I would go to church every so often and act the part and dress the part and hide myself away. Even being at home, where I loved my church and my church family, I began to use work as an excuse to not go on Sundays. I found myself almost as far from God as the day I began to self harm.
I began to realize that something was missing from my life. Something I couldn't exactly put a finger on. I began to try to attend church more often. And every time I did, I would break down in tears because I felt like I didn't deserve to be there.
Then, one Sunday, we had a message about being with people who build you up in your faith rather than tear you down. And, once again, I broke down in tears as I realized, it had been years since I had a group of people like that. Yes, I had friends who were Christians and friends who weren't. But I hadn't had a close knit group of people to share my faith and struggles with since high school. And that's where my problem was rooted.
I began to listen to praise and worship music again. I have it on anytime I'm in the car and anytime I'm cleaning the house. I began to do devotionals again. They are just week-long ones on my Bible app, but they are helping immensely. Then, I made myself do that thing I was the most scared to do. I sat down and wrote an email. (I know. Scary, right?)
I poured my heart out to someone at my church that I had looked up to for years. She was starting a small group in the fall, and if I had to pick any small group, it would be hers. But, I told her how scared I was and how broken I felt all the time. I mean, I was sobbing by the time I finished the email. It was the most vulnerable I had felt in years. As soon as I pressed, send, the fear hit.
What is she going to say?
Is she going to feel sorry for me?
Is she going to laugh at me?
Is she even going to respond?
But I swallowed those fears and moved forward with my week. And what do you know...she responded the next day. She told me how thankful she was for me to have opened up to her. Then she told me something I will never forget:
"Vulnerability is where the GOOD stuff happens with the Lord."
SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK.
Vulnerability is hard. It's hard with people. It's hard with ourselves. It's even hard with God. But in order to shine for and through him, we must be broken. We must allow ourselves to be vulnerable in order for God to do his work in us. We have to remember that God intentionally uses weak people time after time to do his best work. We we recognize that we are weak and we show that weakness to God, we can stop this façade and look to God for our redemption.Our story DOES NOT end in brokenness.
Let me remind you of a little story in the book of Matthew. You might have heard of it. It's the one where Jesus tells Peter to walk on water with him. Yeah...that's the one. Take a look at that story in more detail. Jesus commands Peter to come and walk on the water towards him. Peter steps out of the boat (on his own accord) and begins to walk towards Jesus. It's only when he remembers the waves and focuses on his own humanity that he begins to sink.
When being vulnerable with ourselves and with God, we have to remember the He is greater than the waves. We can't do this whole life thing alone. We just can't. And we knew that before we stepped out of the boat. But, luckily for us, God is bigger than the waves we focus on.
He. Is. Bigger.
I am excited for this next chapter in my life. I am more willing than ever to be open and vulnerable to people I meet and especially to God. Like the title of my blog says, sometimes we need to pray with our eyes wide open in order to be absolutely vulnerable with God. And that's when the good stuff starts happening.
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