Vulnerability, Relationship, and the New Year

It is probably the hardest thing in the world for me to be vulnerable with people. I can think of about 800 other things that I'd rather do than really reveal the inner workings of my mind and heart. And it seems to be just the thing God has lately had His finger on. My life, since a I became a Christian, and I guess, looking back, even before that, seems to have run in themes. It's almost like God says to me, "Okay, Stef, I know this'll be hard, but let's work on THIS now." And then, every sermon I hear, every book I read, every movie I see seems to speak to whatever the theme du jour is. It kinda makes me laugh, kinda makes me sit in awe of God and His incredible love for me that He won't let me sit in stagnation but always, ever so lovingly, urges me on to growth.
So, as I was saying, 'vulnerability' appears to be the recent theme. I was talking to a dear friend last night about my life the last few years, and how it seems to me that God has been peeling back the layers of my emotional/mental/spiritual onion, and now we are finally getting to the inner onion core, the "ouch, don't touch that, leave that alone, that hurts" part.
A few weeks ago a new friend compassionately asked me to share with him some things that I never to talk to anyone about, and I can't think of a time in my life when I have been more scared to open up. I've been doing a lot of reflecting upon why that was the case, why I was so afraid, petrified, really, to share that I was literally trembling, why it was that every word got wedged in my throat and took immense effort to get out. And I think part of the answer goes back to the Garden of Eden. Pre-fall, Adam and Eve were naked and unashamed in each other's and God's presence. They were fully known and knew one another fully. Then sin entered the world, and along with that, fear and hiding. God came looking for them and said, "Where are you?" He knew, but I think He wanted them to realize a few things: one, that they couldn't hide from Him, and two, from this moment on, they, we, would be forever hiding from one another. They were naked, and ashamed. Now, I think that physical nakedness that they had can also be applied to emotional nakedness. Which brings me back to my question: why have I always been so fearful of really sharing myself? Emotional nakedness and the vulnerability it brings, I think.
Anyway, this has all been turning over and over in my mind the past few weeks, and as I got ready to go to church this morning, I prayed that God would speak to me, that He would speak to questions my heart has been steeping in.
I get to church, I sit down, I sing, and I prepare to hear the Word of the Lord. And I get hit by a gentle tsunami of truth, of revelation, of answers to questions that I didn't even know I had.
The sermon today was titled "Friendship: A Beautiful Mess" and guess what it was primarily about? Yup, vulnerability and authenticity in relationship. It was almost like God was saying, "I hear your heart's-cry, Stef, and here you go." I darn near started crying, and took notes prolifically as the pastor very humbly and authentically unpacked the Bible for us.
He started out telling us about how he and his wife moved here a year-and-a-half ago to do ministry at Redeemer (he's from the Midwest!) and how he quickly noticed that he was subtly and unsubtly adjusting his style of dress, mannerisms, etc. to fit the culture out here. His wife gently pointed this out to him, and after some soul-searching, he realized that it boiled down to this: he wanted to be liked. He wanted to be part of a community. So he conformed, almost without consciously realizing what he was doing, to be accepted. He had the deep need in him, as we all do, to be in relationship with others, to know and be fully known.
He then talked about two kinds of ways we do relationship: consumeristically and covenantly (I don't think those are actually words, but you get my drift). In a consumeristic relationship, it's all about me. How long/well does this person benefit me? As long as this person is useful, meets my needs, etc. I'll continue to be in relationship. If they stop, adios. It's very difficult to establish trust and vulnerability when each person is solely interested in taking, and not giving. The second type, covenant relationship, says to the other, "I'm in this for the long haul. I will not leave you nor forsake you, even when you get messy and hard to handle and awful. You take precedence over my own personal wants and needs and I'm sticking around." This is the ideal, and the only time we see this exemplified perfectly is in Christ, and what He did for us. Honestly, I think that deep down inside we all deeply desire this kind of relationship, both in friendship and romance.
The pastor shared how at his marriage, the officiant said something that has stuck firmly in his mind. He said, "Marriage is never, ever 50-50. Sometimes its 90-10, sometimes 60-40, sometimes even 100-0. But when your heart embraces this truth, you are positioned to flourish in your relationship." This holds true not only for romantic relationships but also for friendship. Friendships should never be about, "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours". This leads to a utilitarian relationship, a dead, dry, what-can-you-do-for-me maelstrom. The sermon verses told about Jonathan and David's deep friendship, an improbable one since Jonathan was not only the son of the King, but the king who wanted to kill David. And David was a simple shepherd. More socially polar opposites one could not find. Galatians 3:28-29 speaks to this kind of relationship that is so deep it breaks down all barriers: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." It breaks down all distinctions we use as leverage to reject and judge others, to medicate our own egos. Everything I use to validate myself, to give me dignity, is obliterated. It takes natural enemies and makes them family. A picture of what true vulnerability, true relationship will one day be.
The pastor quoted Dostoyevsky in 'Brothers Karamazov', saying, "Love in practice is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams." The image of love we are given in dreams or movies is partially true, but mostly false, I think. It is true in that it speaks to that place deep inside of all of us that longs to return to the perfection and deep relationship of the Garden before sin. But it is mostly false because it sets up love and vulnerability and trust as something easy and effortless.Real love is beautiful and glorious, but becomes that way most often by being watered by the tears of pain and the sweat of toil.
C.S. Lewis, in his book 'The Four Loves' says:
"Love anything and your heart will be broken. If you want to protect your heart, you must give it to no one, avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin...But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers of love is Hell."
As God works on me, and prods me gently out of my comfort zone into the realm of vulnerability, I hold fast to the truth that gives me the strength I need--that Christ loves me with a love indefatigable; He sees all of my faults, all the mess inside me, and draws me close, nonetheless. Because He made Himself vulnerable to me, to all of us, I can take the steps to grow, to face my fears head on. Pastor Sauls said that being vulnerable with people is like putting a sword in someone else's hand, knowing full well that they can either fiercely protect you with it, or pierce you through the heart. It is a risk, but one that I'm slowly learning is worth taking.
As I rapidly approach a new year, I am excited to see what is in store. I am excited to be challenged to grow in faith and character, to take a serious look at my deficits and not only seek to improve them, but to really be okay with not being perfect. To take those first steps into the unknown.
A dear friend gave me some great advice a few weeks ago as I shared with him how difficult it is for me to be vulnerable. He said that I should trust people in chunks, a little, then a little more, then a little more still. As an all-or-nothing, hot or cold, full or starving kind of woman, emotional moderation is definitely my personal Mt. Everest. But as I turned over his advice in my mind, I realized that I could begin there.
I believe that each person is infinitely precious; our combinations of personalities, talents, and experiences make each one of us a unique gift; a gift to be given to better this world, and in effect, to honor what God made us to be. By withholding myself, I am not honoring God, nor benefitting those around me. But by taking risks and being myself, being authentic, being vulnerable (there's that word again!), perhaps, in my own small way, I can make a difference for the better.
As I left church, my legs carried me forward of their own volition; my mind was still in a haze. I was in awe of God's quick answer to my morning prayer, but also excited about the verbal and spiritual yeast that had been sprinkled on my heart, to sit in the warmth for awhile and quietly rise to make sustaining bread that my soul can begin to feast on.