The Blessing of Community

College was strange.

It is the only time in your life where you are placed in a community of people who are the same age as you for an extended period of time. You get to live life with other humans who have a similar purpose, but come from vastly different backgrounds.

My first apartment was strange. I was so used to walking across the hall for something. I had to plan to hang out with people whereas in college, they were just there.

Henry Nouwen writes, “Community is not an organization; community is a way of living; you gather around you people with whom you want to proclaim the truth that we are beloved sons and daughters of God.“

Living in a community allows us to call out in each other the aspects of God that we find in each other. The thing about living community like this, it that we first have to is to recognize in our belovedness. Nouwen shares that ministry starts “because your freedom is anchored in claiming your belovedness”.

My freedom lies in believing that I am beloved.

I remember one time, as an RA, we were asked to spend some time in solitude. It was an amazing experience because I was able to sit, just me and God, after the craziness of training. We were given this article called “Moving From Solitude To Community To Ministry” by Henry Nouwen. The article reaffirmed the vast majority of what God had been teaching me this summer.

I sat there in solitude, simply dwelling in the silence and being with God and God alone. It was important for me to sit still and listen to the voice of the one who calls me beloved.

God calls me beloved.

The more that I dwelled with that phrase, God began to speak to the corners of my heart, the center of my being, and slowly I began to accept his love for me. I sat on the edge of a pond where a gaggle of geese were relaxing. I began to watch and study the geese. A group of them flew to the opposite side of the lake to feed.

I watched as a clear leader stepped out of the water.

He took one timid step, intently watching his surroundings.

He stretched his leg out as he took another timid step.

He was constantly on guard and he took small steps forward.

Sometimes I feel like that goose. I know what God is asking us to do or accept, but I timidly step forward. Kind of like this idea of being His beloved. I step forward timidly believing that I am loved, but constantly looking for the other foot to drop. It sounds crazy because you would think that being loved would be an easy thing to accept. Meanwhile, God had become so vulnerable in his pursuit of us. He became so little, so dependent in a manger and on a cross and is begging me, “Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you really love me.” How crazy is that? The God of the universe loves me.

It is a gift freely offered by the creator of the universe.

As a result, I am more prepared to do and capable of loving others when I accept that the King of the World and Creator of the Universe loves me.

The aspect of community changes when you don’t live in the dorms anymore. I have to be more intentional about seeking out people to do life with. I am beginning a new journey.

One that reflects my belovedness.

Tenth Avenue North wraps this idea up well in their song “Beloved”.

You’re my beloved lover
I’m yours
Death shall not part us
It’s you I died for
For better or worse
Forever we’ll be
My love it unites us and it binds you to me
It’s a mystery

I am choosing to walk in the freedom of accepting that God desires me to be exactly the way he created me. He chose me to play in his story of redemption. I have a purpose in his plan. I desire to choose to live in the freedom of God. The freedom that doesn’t worry about what other people think of me.

The freedom that accepts myself for who I am—crazy, beautiful, smart, and weird.

The freedom that steps out of my comfort zone. The freedom that loves God with abandon.

The freedom that crosses oceans and roads to share the gospel.

I want to choose in to God’s desire to change the world. I want to choose in to loving people without judgement. I do not know what God has planned for this year, but I know that his plans are better thqan my plans.

God is good.

So, I’m going to be honest-really vulnerable-with you.

I keep repeating the mantra “God is good. God is good to me. God is good at being God.” from Lysa TerKeurst, but I don’t know if deep down I truly believed them for a time.

I keep saying “this is the year of me”, but not doing anything to promote my healing.

I believed wholeheartedly that “God is good and He has a good plan” right after my accident, but the longer the journey has taken, the more I’ve found myself doubting that truth.

Life is hard.

It’s hard seeing friends do things that you used to be able to do. It’s hard. It’s hard wanting to do everything, but having to pace yourself. It’s especially hard looking forward to something but right before you leave, your brain is not having it. Life is simply hard.

Life is messy.

It’s messy when you make progress but not as much as you would like. It’s messy to want to socialize but your brain hates people.

When you’re in the valley, it’s easy to doubt the goodness of God, especially when you’re in the valley for longer than you thought you would be. This is what happened to me. I knew God was good and His plan for me was good, but recently I struggled to believe it in my soul. Life is harder than I thought. Recovery is a lot harder than I anticipated. On the 17th, it will be 15 months since my accident. I’ve come a long way, but I’m nowhere near where I desire to be. I got angry at God. I yelled at Him, wondering why he chose to save me, but not heal me completely? I shook my fists at Him, wondering why life was so hard now—why I’m 23 going on 93 (sometimes it feels that way). I feel like my youth has vanished.

The funny thing about God is that He wasn’t upset with me for being real with Him, but He didn’t let me stay there—in the pit. He put people in my life to encourage me to rise up out of the mud. It was my choice to listen to them. My mom confronted me about this fact. I was saying these things but she wasn’t seeing me do anything. I wasn’t doing therapy. I got back to driving, but that was about it. It was hard, but good having her say that to me. I didn’t really notice that I was even doing that, until she brought it to my attention. She challenged me, “Do you believe that God is good and that he has a good plan for you?” That rocked me. I thought about that and my gut response was “no”. I knew that it should be “yes”, but it was “no”. Over the next couple of weeks, God used songs and people to tell me “You are loved. You are loved more than you could ever know. I’ve got a good plan for your life. It’s hard right now, but good things are coming.”

So, I’m still struggling to figure out how to believe that when things don’t work out the way I want them to, but I believe it more than I did last month.

God is good.

God is good to me.

God is good at being God.

So, I’m choosing to believe that and fall in love with being alive.

“Because God’s writing your story and He never leaves you alone in your story, and His perfect love absorbs all your fear and His perfect grace carries all your burdens, and your story is a happily ever after because Christ bought your happily ever after so you always know how this story ends.”

Ann Voskamp

Accepting the New Me

Isn’t it crazy how after a mission trip or something like that, we are no longer the same person we were, but we embrace that change. After something traumatic, we change, but we push against it. We want the “old us” back.

Why is that?

I think it’s because in one situation we put ourselves in a situation where change is an option. We don’t consciously choose to change, but we know change is a possibility. We see things and are impacted by people where there’s no turning back. There’s no chance to unlearn the things we have been through.

In the other, we have no control.

Zero. Zilch.

This change in our personality is forced upon us. In my case, I never saw it coming. I’m a different person, but I’m still Sara. If that sounds confusing, it’s because I haven’t really quite figured it out myself yet. My TBI changed me, not only because of the trauma of it, but because it changed the actual chemistry of my brain. I didn’t have a choice to not change. I’m still trying to tread the the line of trying hard to be the old me, or give up completely.

I have a choice—I can choose to fight against the change or I can choose to accept the new me. I’m still struggling with actually accepting the new me. It’s not easy to encounter things I used to be able to do, but now can’t. I’m still trying to figure out how to balance trying to be as close to 100% as I can, but also embrace the new me. This new person who gets overwhelmed easily—that can’t handle loud noises or flashing lights.

There may be things that I can’t do as well as I could, but there are also things that I can do better now. I’m still working on figuring those out. For now, I’m going to try not to fight against the changes. I’m going to embrace the new me.

One thing I do know is that I’ve never been more sure of God’s love for me.

There are days where His love is the only thing that gets me through the day.

There are moments where I hold on to the phase by Lysa TerKeurst: God is good. God is good to me. God is good at being God.

There are moments when I get frustrated with myself and my limitations, but God chooses those moments to show me that I’m more loved than I would ever know.

Where’s Home?

12 years ago, my life changed drastically. I moved back to the states.

For only being 23 years old, I’ve had three life changing things happen. Moving back was the first. My parents were missionaries so my theology was shaped by dry deserts and dirt floors. From when I was only 3 months old, I grew up in strange culture, only it wasn’t strange to me. I grew up speaking British English and chasing spiders.

When I moved back, everyone said I was coming home, but this culture was strange.

This year, March 17, marks 12 years that I’ve been in the states. After March 17, I will have lived in America longer than I lived in Nigeria.

This is bittersweet. Most people won’t fully understand the significance of this year, but I want to honor the country and people that played a significant part in the shaping of who I am today.

Here’s 4 things I learned:

  1. Cultures are vastly different. In America, there were so many choices-so many things. My brain often got (and still gets) overwhelmed at the grocery store because there are 10 choices for 1 item. Time is linear, here, rather than circular. This moment in time was thought to never come around again which was the exact opposite of Nigeria. If you had planned on doing something, but someone stopped by, you would focus on that person because the time to do that thing would come around again. I, also, grew up in a relationship focused culture rather than a time focused culture. The culture was dictated by relationships rather than the clock. If someone stopped by, you would drop everything and welcome them. People matter first.
  2. It is possible to put roots into people as opposed to places. Places are important. While staying is just as important as going, sometimes, it’s hard to call a certain place “Home”. Home to me is people. I’ve put down roots into people—people that I’ve established as being important in my journey that is called life. I’ve nurtured those roots—watered them. It doesn’t matter the location of the people that a well place elephant picture or song can’t make them seem closer. If we get the chance, coffee dates are my love language, and I love discussing life over coffee. I put roots into people. Even after my TBI, I remember most people but situations and places are fuzzy . I think it stemmed from my transitional childhood and the fact that relationships were greatly valued. Don’t get me wrong, places matter, as my spiritual formation has been shaped by lush green springs, the grey, rainy days, the vast deserts in Africa, the blue-green oceans in Haiti and the magnificent mountains in Montana. God has met me in so many places in the reality of my nomadic past and He often used people.
  3. My heart is big enough to hold many places—more places than I even know. When I first moved back, I couldn’t imagine loving this country as much as I loved Nigeria. Nigeria is still my heart’s home but this country has grown on me. The first time I went to Haiti I didn’t know that it—the country itself—would worm its way into my heart. My heart was stolen by the people and their generosity. The first time I went to Montana, my soul felt free and I fell in love with the mountains and the people. When I went to the Dominican Republic, I didn’t know that my heart had room for another country, but it did. My heart made room for the DR, and it stamped itself on my heart. My heart holds those places closely and now, I know that my heart can hold so many more places.
  4. Normal is overrated. When I first moved back, I felt like I had a stamp on my head. I felt like I had to explain to everyone why I was so weird-why I didn’t know what movies, books or songs were popular or why I knew more about the current events than musical artists. Someone would tell a joke and I would laugh even though I had no idea why it was funny. I just didn’t want to be the only person not laughing. I was trying so hard to be “normal”. I wrestled with insecurity because I was not like everyone else. Over time, I learned to see the value of my experience. It made me a more diverse and well-rounded person. I may be different, run on African time, and not know what is currently popular, but I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

I Won’t Let You Go

I am a piece of work.

I have a lot of faults.

I compare myself to others.

I complain A LOT.

I have trust issues (sometimes even with God).

I push people close to me away because I am afraid of them leaving and getting hurt.

I am often too proud.

These are only a few of the faults that make me cringe.I have a lot of faults.The beautiful thing is that even though I am a mess of faults, I am a living human being. This means that I have the potential to change or grow. I have grown. I am a different living human being than I was 6 years ago, when I was a senior in high school. I have outgrown some of my insecurities and gained new ones. I have pushed myself out of my comfort zone so many times, that my comfort zone has changed. Insecurity has the power to push me into the corner, causing me to become a wallflower, not growing but wilting in the feeling of being alone right in the middle of a crowd—a crowd that loves me for me. The thing about insecurity is that just when you think you have won, it rears its ugly head again.

I have a lot of faults.

I know I am not perfect. That thought rolls round and round in my head until God stops me in my tracks and tells me over and over again. “Beautiful daughter of mine, you don’t need to be perfect. You are already perfectly loved.”I am loved through my faults.That does not mean that I do not have the responsibility to fix my faults if I can. I fail. I hurt my friends when I get insecure because I say things I don’t mean. I push people away and hurt them. I often push people away before I could possibly get hurt. That’s really no way to go through life. I need to take responsibility for my faults.I try to hide from my responsibilities and put the blame of my faults on other people and things. As I try to hide, I become encamped in a place where God is preparing me. He is working in me.I may be encamped in a way that I do not understand. I don’t know how to fix my faults. God offers hope.“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”Phil. 1:6

God began a journey in my life and heart and He promises to finish it in his perfect timing. He is working out His plan for my life while helping me work on my faults.

I cannot change who I am and how God made me: I do not want to do that.

I run with my head down.

-I cry when I am stressed.

-I laugh at myself even though I am not funny.

-I act like a kid sometimes.

-I love colored pens and organized schedules.

-I desire spontaneous adventures.

-I am a romantic at heart.

These and other quirks make me who I am. A brown-eyed, curly-haired, laughing, and romantic, brave individual.

I am a work in progress, but I do not want to change who I am. I just need to work through my faults.I am God’s beautiful, loved, cherished daughter, and He wants me to live fully. As God works in me, helping me fix those parts of myself that need fixing. The areas that need work, because I am not perfect. He is there when I can’t change myself. He walks beside me as I wrestle with being present when I want to run away. He encourages me as I choose to trust people. He sits with me as I learn to love who I am through my insecurities. He cheers me on as a give up my pride and base my abilities on Him.I don’t have to be perfect because God is. In the quiet spaces of my heart, God continually whispers “You are loved more than you could ever know.” No matter what our story is-where we have been, what we have done-God’s love can never be diminished, tarnished, shaken or taken. Our response is to abide in that and fully live loved. The amazing thing about God is that even when I fail, God doesn’t loosen His grip on my soul. Even when it feels like He’s let go-when things aren’t going anywhere near my way-He’s still right there beside me, holding my heart. He’s still working in me-figuring out the sinful kinks in my soul. It’s always an adventure with Jesus as He works in me and makes me more like Him.

Expectation

It’s only been just over a month into 2018. It’s been a month that I’ve reached landmark after landmark. I’ve already seen God do amazing things in my life, and I’m expecting Him to do more. Recently, I spoke to the Independent Studies students at Mansfield Christian School. The whole idea was God’s faithfulness in my life. Someone asked me, “What was my plan now? What was my new desire?” It’s funny how I had never pictured myself working at a school or contemplated working in a rehab but now those are really things I’m thinking about. It’s funny how God changes your dreams or gives you a new dream.

This is going to be my best year yet because I’m expecting God to do great things.

On Monday, I drove by myself for the first time in a year, a month, and 26 days (not that I’m counting or anything). It felt good to be free again. It was a little nerve racking but I drove. It was a big milestone to pass. It’s just around town for now, and it feels like I’m 16 again, but it’s baby steps.

Also, I’ve been swimming again. It might not seem like a big thing to others but it is to me. The water is like my second home. I’ve swam for 8 years, and I would much rather swim any distance than run. I tried swimming last summer but my legs were not strong enough to keep me afloat. I tried again recently and I could swim. I was very out of shape but I did it. Swimming is very good for me physically as well as mentally. It takes a whole lot of coordination to swim effectively. It made me feel a little more like the old Sara to get in the water again.

“God may not answer every prayer with a miracle, but He does answer a few with a surprise”

Sheridan Voysey

So I’m expecting God to surprise me greatly this year, and I’m excited for the adventure He is taking me on.

It’s going to a great year!

Giving in to Negative Thoughts

A bad day does not make for a bad life (Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it).

This week, I gave into my fears, of failing, of letting people down, of being imperfect.

I have learned over the years that the only difference between an adventure and an obstacle is attitude. I gave in to my negative attitude this week. I allowed myself to follow the mental tracks of self-doubt, negativity, hesitation, and uncertainty.

I failed.

I failed in almost every area of life this week-oversleeping, and not having words. Utterly and absolutely failed.

I gave in when I allowed my failures to define my life.

I fell into old patterns of fear.

I had a bad day-a few bad days-but that does not give me permission to go down this trail fear.

I gave in and allowed my thoughts to define who God is and what He meant.

In my failures, I gave in and decided to control my life myself.

And, guess what….

I failed miserably.

I had no control of my emotions, of my life, of even my alarms.

It hurt.

Failure humbles me and reminded me that I am not the One who breathed the stars.

Just when I thought I knew that being brave and audacious meant, I was reminded that I need to be brave in my failures.

Admit my shortcomings and buck up.

Offer the failures up to the King of Kings and move on.

King David writes, “Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him” Psalms 62:5. He knew all about failure. He failed at many things, but he kept returning to the steadfastness of the Lord. He presents himself, his failures and successes, before the Lord.

Finally, at the end of the week, I gave in and accepted that God was God (C. S. Lewis). I relinquished control of my life and emotions to the One who created me.

Audaciously, I cried letting God meet me in failures. Humbly, offering them up as a meager sacrifice of my messy life.

Bravely, I accepted my humanness and let God be God.

Redeemed, I allowed myself to focus on His grace and not on my failings.

“I learned to dance with the fear that I’d been running from.”

Ben Rector.

I gave in and let God instill joy in my heart in the midst of my fears.

Habits of Grace

The early church started simply—radically simple as believers met together, lived life together and shared what they had to meet the needs of the people around them.

In the book of Acts, the early church consisted of a small house, in a small city, in a small country to be the place God first sent His Holy Spirit. The church consisted of everyday people who were simply willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus by receiving His Spirit. Christ worked through Peter’s sermon that first day, spreading the gospel so that thousands heard the good news (Acts 2:14-40). That first sermon spread the gospel beyond the influence of the small circle like a holy ripple effect, as the Holy Spirit empowered each new believer to live transformed doing revolutionary things like selling everything to meet the needs of the people around them, and doing life with other sinners around them. The early church, through the Holy Spirit, learned to do life together in simple, intentional, and gracious ways.

The Spirit moved in ways that they could only imagine. The gospel continued to spread through the region regardless of the opposition that it received. Stephen, boldly, stepped out and challenged the generational idols. He lived by the Spirit to the point that as he was arrested and stoned, He proclaimed Christ. He continued to preach his guts out for the glory of God. He did not stop telling the world about the truth with his last breath.

Neither did the early church. The most common reaction to a tragedy like that would be to withdraw and allow emotions to settle down.

The Church did not back down. They continued to share the truth about Jesus regardless of the persecution they received from all sides. In their humanity, they could have recoiled and retreated after the tragedy. Instead, they were committed to love others for the sake of Christ without regard for their own lives. They proudly professed their faith wherever they went.

Thus, the gospel spread. The church scattered but not running to hide, rather it propelled them out to share the gospel in every corner of the world. Like a wave in the oceans, person after person impacted the communities they were placed in, and the gospel spread like wildfire to the ends of the earth.

The Christians did not simply wait for the Pharisees and opposition to challenge them, before they chose Jesus. They made Jesus and the gospel the most important thing in their life. They made the decision to follow Him all or nothing before they were placed in the situation to choose.

You do not simply decide to do something and immediately become good at it, rather you put in the time and effort into preparing, learning and training.

It is like a marathon. You do not simply go out one day and decide to run a marathon.

If you do, you will fail.

You train slowly over time, building up endurance, stamina, and speed.

You train and prepare to succeed.

Benjamin Franklin wrote, “By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail”. No truer words have ever been spoken.

Could you say now you would do if someone told you to deny Christ and die, like Stephen? The common response made by people today is “I hope I would….,” or “I believe that I would…., but one can’t know for sure until placed in that situation”.

The reality is that you can decide now.

You decide today what decision you will make at that moment when you are asked to lay your life down for the one who died on the cross for you.

It is a daily decision. One in which you choose Jesus day in and day out-practicing a habit of grace-living our daily lives as a testimony to the Holy Spirit inside us.

We choose to love the people around us. We invest in the people God has placed us in the vicinity of-choosing to do life with them. Bravely choosing to invest in the messiness of what it means to be a human living in community with other sinful humans.

Here is where grace comes in.

Grace. The realization that we are sinners and do not deserve the unmerited favor placed on us by the Creator of the universe.

But accepting the grace extended to us means we can be used by God throughout the simple actions of everyday life.

The grace extended by God to us today allows us to live into the same power of the Holy Spirit that the early church embraced. We can choose to live into the vast amount of untapped treasure we have at our disposal.

God still moves in vast ways today as we choose to enjoy getting to know Jesus, our loving Savior.

The reality is that is in the daily devotions, the prayer, and the fellowship with Jesus and others where you develop the habit of choosing Jesus in the small moments. You begin slowly building and deepening the relationship with simple habits of grace.

Broken People Loving Broken People.

As Christians, with whom do we surround ourselves? Who do we let in to our sacred space, and with whom do we choose to share our story with? We are constantly growing closer to God, so automatically we are going to choose to surround ourselves with people who are growing as well.

But the need to share the gospel with them diminishes because they already understand this organic relationship with the Creator of the universe. He is already working in their hearts.

Like attracts like.

But, should it?

A community of believers worshipping God, and sharing what He is doing in their lives reveals a piece of God’s heart for his people. God thrives in the middle of sacred moments like Sunday mornings or bible studies. Wherever two or three are gathered, God is in the midst of them.

God-honoring community and fellowship is a beautiful thing, but if that is all one focuses on then they are missing the entire point.

Jesus calls us to help spread the gospel to the ends of the earth. If we simply choose to remain within the confines of God- honoring community, we become stagnant.

We are not forwarding the kingdom.

Jesus surrounded himself with the least and lowest. He interacted with tax-collectors, Pharisees, prostitutes, women, and the poor. Jesus walked with the misfits and lepers. Jesus repeatedly reached out to those at the bottom of the social pyramid—poor people, women, Samaritans, lepers, children, prostitutes and tax collectors. Jesus was also eager to accept people who were well-placed, but he made clear that all regardless of social position, needed to repent. Needed Him.

The people he interacted with were looked over and discarded by society, but Jesus saw them. He was not afraid of their messy lives or dirty faces. Should we?

Jesus loved them and welcomed them into his story. The merciful story of redemption.

Jesus shared meals with them and did life with them. He laughed and cried with them.

He welcomed the women and the children into his story, when no one else would.

He opened his heart, life and arms wide to allow all the brokenhearted and oppressed.

How much more is our call to share this Jesus with broken people?

This Jesus who chose a small boy to be the bearer of the meal that feed the five thousand. This Jesus that saved an adulterous woman from being stoned. This Jesus that offered the Samaritan woman at the well living water. This Jesus that made the blind see and the lame walk. This Jesus who cast out demons and healed lepers.
This is our Jesus.

This is the Jesus who advocates for and liberates the oppressed.

Our call is not to simply socialize with people who already know him, but to fill up during those God-honoring fellowships and take Jesus to the brokenhearted.

They need Jesus-His love, His mercy, His peace.

As we branch out and reach out to the people in our midst who are brokenhearted, overlooked, oppressed, disconcerted, and lost, we reflect the One who gave us life.

We reflect His work in our lives so that the people we are allowing into our life and story can see the impact our Jesus has made.

Jesus speaks for Himself when we allow His light to show through our messy lives.

We do not have it all figured out as we reach out to others—that is the beauty of it. God works in our life as He changes theirs.

The change comes when the people we are reaching out to feel loved and cherished as humans because we are welcoming them into our lives and homes, not afraid of their pain, baggage and hurt.

It simply starts with a smile and “Hello, would you like to do life with me? You are a valuable human being, and I choose to let you into my sacred and messy story, Jesus’ story.”

“I want to be outside with the misfits, with the rebels, the dreamers, second-chance givers, the radical grace lavishers, the ones with arms wide open, the courageously vulnerable, and among even—or maybe especially—the ones rejected by the Table as not worthy enough or right enough.”

Sarah Bessey

Vulnerability.

Vulnerability. Community.

These words are used so often in resident life at Christian colleges that they begin to lose their meaning. We say things like “build community”, “be vulnerable and open”, and “facilitate community”.

Do we really know what we are asking for when we say these buzz words?

Vulnerability and community are incredible and beautiful aspects of belonging to a group of people. I have been blessed to be a part of a group that consistently reminds me of the value of these qualities. I’m not afraid to tell them if I’m having a bad day or I’m struggling keeping my thoughts positive.

“Vulnerability is not weakness, and the uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure we face every day are not optional. Our only choice is a question of engagement. Our willingness to own and engage with our vulnerability determines the depth of our courage and the clarity of our purpose; the level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection.”
― Brené Brown

As humans, we believe that showing people our true selves—our hurts, our desires, our passions, our insecurities—reflects that we are weak. In modern society, sharing our emotions is weak, and weakness of any sort is unacceptable. We try so hard to hide the messiness of our lives behind a thin-lipped smile or stifled laugh. We play pretend.

The reality is that vulnerability requires bravery. We are not weak when we share this part of ourselves with others. The part we hide behind our façade of “I’m OK. I’m tired. I’m busy”. These are safe answers when we do not desire to share our heart with other people. They are barriers that we need to put up because we cannot share our deepest desires and darkest secrets with every random person with whom we come into contact with.

Choosing to be vulnerable is risky and scary, but so much more rewarding than I could ever imagine. It opens the door for significant conversations about real life—the triumphs, the trials, the hurts. The very definition of the word vulnerable means “capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt, open to assault, or difficult to depend”. When we become vulnerable with other people, we are choosing to enter into this place where we open up our hearts and lives to the point where we can get hurt. This place of unknown emotions where we share our souls with other individuals. I have been challenged this semester to be real, genuine and vulnerable with the people God has placed in my life.

My default setting is to simply assume that everyone could disappear because I have moved so many times. As a result, it is hard to be vulnerable and open with people because the more I open up, the greater the possibility of hurt.

The reality is that I can avoid getting hurt by putting up barriers, but what would I miss out on?

Deep conversations about God at 3 am.

Watching God reveal strengths in my life that others point out to me through my weakness.

Accepting that I am broken so that people can see God as he works in my life.

Sharing songs that speak to my heart with a dear friend.

Sharing my story with people who truly listen.

Reflecting God’s vision of community as we forgive and love each other in our brokenness.

As I challenge myself to be audacious, I decided to choose vulnerability.

To share my heart’s story with my closest friends. To speak the truth in love. To reveal pieces of myself in layers. To not hide behind the masks I put up to protect my heart.

The more I hide behind our masks, the more hurt I become because I feel truly alone in this big, challenging world. Sometimes, all it takes is realizing that someone else struggles with the same vices or doubts. We all have wounds. We all have hurts that cause us pain. There lies that deep-seeded loneliness that emerges in the midst of every success, the feeling of worthlessness that hides behind every accomplishment, and the meaninglessness that sneaks up on the good days which causes us to seek validation in human company, not God.

When you choose to be vulnerable, you allow people to enter into the story of God’s redemption in your life.

We do not feel so alone.

The Christian walk is not one that we can do by ourselves. We need to be surrounded by people who encourage us in our journey, who move us closer to God, and challenge us to keep trusting in God’s timing.

Vulnerability is a choice that is make every day as I choose to take off my mask and simply be a broken person loving broken people.