Fully Known, Truly Loved (why vulnerability in friendship matters)

You guys.

No eloquent words here, that much is obvious--but it's the only greeting that feels somewhat appropriate considering my rumpled-up mental state. I will be the first to admit this post is more messy than I prefer. (recovering perfectionist here)

While some topics flow through my fingertips with relative ease, this is not one of them.  These words have been wrung out, worried over, torn apart, scrapped altogether.  I have gotten frustrated, typed like a fiend, and started again. You might call it the seedy side of writing that we don't discuss in polite company.

And then it caught me right on the chin. An uppercut dealing a blow of clarity. I am given the perfect literary opportunity to show and not tell. To focus our attention on the importance of vulnerability in friendships--through the very act of making myself vulnerable as a writer.

I am under no illusion, can claim no expertise.  To share my thoughts on so weighty a word (when there is multitudes left to learn) feels akin to handing a kindergartener the microphone at college commencement.  While attempting to type, the scowling eyes of imposter syndrome pinned me down at every turn of phrase.

While transparency and vulnerability are both valuable, I more often make an uneasy truce with transparency.  After all, it only requires honesty surrounding circumstances that have already transpired.  Worked through, gotten over, now past tense--these realities feel tidier, safer to share. But to surrender in real time the raw and tender parts of myself to another? That seems risky and unknown.

Sharing this process feels somewhat nerve-wracking, yet curiously like freedom.  An invitation extended wherein you may stumble across the fact that my wisdom is sorely limited. (it was only a matter of time!) Regardless of the scaries tap-dancing up my spine, I am eager to rummage through the evidence available.  As we sort and study, we will hopefully understand more clearly the ways in which vulnerability strengthens our bond and grows our connections to one another.

I have no intention to insult your intelligence with a glossy sales pitch.  We needn't walk far to encounter reality--blazing the trail towards vulnerability will stretch our comfort zone and make us squirm.  It will ask for love and attention that looks suspiciously like hard work.  But the sturdiness it affords our friendships is worth a skinned knuckle or five.

For our purposes here, we will define vulnerability in the context of Christian friendship as such:

the honest sharing of our unvarnished self on an emotional and spiritual level; with someone who is trustworthy and safe.

While transparency is the freedom from pretense or deceit, vulnerability takes things a step further and invites people into the areas where I currently feel weak or incomplete. It is unequivocally something I must practice.  

Though achingly ordinary, practice requires time and energy--which no magic potion can replace. It requires me to work through the reps of surrendering my insecurities, letting down my guard, and shucking off the carefully arranged versions of myself. To exercise these atrophied muscles feels Mary-Mary-quite-contrary to my default mode of self-preservation. 

Existing as a woman in the identity-driven atmosphere of our modern age is to inhale the relentless invitation to insecurity. Be it social events among church folk, or online interactions that leave us feeling less-than; the menu options that tempt us to feel awkward or ambivalent are many.  Additionally, we are offered an array of carefully crafted facades, helpful for disguising the chaos within:

• The I have my stuff together smile
• The I don't need anyone else right now posture
• The I am self-sufficient stride
• The I am impervious to peer-pressure face
• The I am spiritually strong gaze
• The I am not affected stance
• The I am not in a struggle silhouette
• The I'm really quiet for no reason mask

We are all cracked jars, to be sure. I'm 100% guilty of covering my own fissured surface with variations of these "faces.  The question to which I keep returning is this: do I spend more energy mulling over the ways people perceive me?  Or do I invest time in prayer for bravery to press into the humble and genuine connection Jesus commands?

Vulnerability by definition is an untidy act. This is not to say vulnerability means gushing out every emotion to anyone who will listen, and without discretion!  Rather, it takes on the sanctifying shape of inviting trustworthy friends to share in my struggle, with no thought of making myself "presentable." I'm a terribly disappointing person at times, and no one is more aware of this fact than my closest friends. Knowing I am loved in spite of this fact is the most beautiful gift a friendship can offer. 

In authentic relationship, vulnerability not only shares our difficulties, but also shares the positive things we experience.  Rejoicing with those who rejoice, and encouraging one another in our specific giftings. Intentional and ongoing encouragement is a far more vulnerable practice than we might imagine. This particular aspect has been transformative in rooting out my insecurities. To speak honest words of affirmation into the lives of my friends is a reliable sanitizer against the rot of selfishness and scarcity.

Humility is not initially attractive for any of us--but in offering my undisguised self to the witness of another, my pride is forced to slink out the back door.  To invite the presence of help, truth, and comfort into my humanity is the real life representation of what we see in scripture:

"Therefore, confess your faults one to another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.

(James 5:16)

James states with confident imperative that mending my broken places means I must first offer them up.  At the very heart of our vulnerability pulses a desire for healing and wholeness. A desire that is met when burdens are shared. Paul found it important to remind an entire newborn church of this fact:

"Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ."

(Galations 6:2)

Too often I'm eager to claim these words, then silently fume that "no one understands"--as my mouth frames the words--"I'm doing OK."  My friends are hard-pressed to bear my hidden burdens, and last time I checked, toughness isn't a fruit of the Spirit. Our broken pieces won't heal unattended.

I am not here to pretend there will not be risks when choosing vulnerability.

We can be hurt. Might be misunderstood. Likely at some point overlooked. No doubt all of us can recall a time when this has been our story.  The truth is this:  we will hurt and be hurt. Make mistakes and be let down.  It is OK to acknowledge this sobering reality, while holding space for the fact that every friendship this side of glory will sometimes experience disappointments.  

For what it's worth, I've found the rewards of vulnerability in friendship far exceed the pain. 

I am determined to keep showing up. Praying more consistently for eyes to better "see" those God puts in my path. (He's been so very faithful to honor this request) I'm craving to become more sensitive to the ones struggling to share. Leaning into the pause when it feels less complicated to run away.  

As I press again into the tenderness of vulnerability, I cannot help but stare in bewilderment at the unexpected spaces and unlikely persons with whom my heart has bonded. But this much I do understand: it softens my heart and increases my courage.

It looks like "I see you."  It sounds like, "Come sit with us." It feels like an understanding glance softly wrapping these stiff shoulders with grace. Whatever lies ahead, I am never walking alone. 

"To be loved but not known, 

is comforting but superficial.

To be known and not loved

is our greatest fear.

But to be fully known and truly loved, is, well,

a lot like being loved by God.

It is what we need 

  more than anything." 

-Keller

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For those who have been closely following this series, thank you.

For those who are just joining, the previous posts can be found here and here.

And no, you haven't lost your bearings. I had previously intended that we would spend this week exploring the practical and life-giving elements that frame our friendships. But with each trail of thought, I hit a dead-end at the same old signpost. Eventually I abandoned my outline in favor of the obvious: if I was indeed serious about exploring deeper friendship, this post on vulnerability had to come first.

 I'm excited to hear what you have to add to the conversation. Your feedback is always insightful!