It started with a statement from my music teacher. We were
sitting at her piano, in the throes of exam preparation, discussing a couple of
pieces which required deeper expression and interpretation than I had been playing
with. My teacher told me she knew I had the place to draw from because I always
pick the most soulful of pieces. Her solution answered so many questions I didn’t even know I had. She said, “You’re shy.”
Looking back, I can see it cropping up often. I had the
feelings, the desires, even intentions, but I was too shy to let it out. In
order to give music the depth it required, or share my deepest feelings and
express my desires as in the other situations, I had to open up. I had to be
vulnerable.
I don’t like that word. It makes me think of some poor
animal, a fawn perhaps, exposed and powerless before an enemy. It seems synonymous
with weakness, helplessness. That’s not something I want to be.
But since that conversation with my teacher, I’ve realised art
and creativity require vulnerability.
If I wrote a song, my story would come through lyrics; my
soul would be in the melody.
If I wrote a book, my heart would be in the pages, my ambitions
in every character.
If I painted a picture, my concepts would be on the canvass.
If I designed a garment, my tastes and preferences would be
reflected.
If I cooked a meal, my style of food, and my mood of the day,
would be conveyed.
All creativity requires vulnerability. It’s taking something
hidden inside us, and giving it a medium to come out. Suddenly, we’re exposed.
Even creativity in the simplest of ways: every time you put
on an outfit, pick a new item of clothing, do your hair, you’re being
vulnerable. Your style and taste is in front of everyone, open for their evaluation.
Vulnerability brings us together too. By being open before
God and open before others, we can encourage, inspire, influence, and prompt
change. It draws us together, forms bonds. It takes us from being introspective
and self-centred to realising we’re closer to each other than we thought, and having
opportunity to change lives.
This is the tiniest example, but in my post
Springs in the Wilderness,
I began by stating I had been spiritually dry. For me, that was being
vulnerable. I didn’t want to tell everyone my relationship with God isn’t where
it should be. I didn’t need everyone to know I have doubts. I didn’t need to
give people an opportunity to judge me as a hypocrite. But as a result, others
opened up and shared their own struggles, and we were able to encourage each
other. We were brought closer together, and though I may never meet those
girls, we have helped each other trust God’s promises. How amazing is that?!
I was thinking about why Psalms is one of most read books in
the Bible. Is it because there’s a prayer for every situation? Is it because the
poetic beauty captures our attention? That must be part of it, but I think the
real reason is that Psalms is one of the most vulnerable books in the Bible.
David opens every part of his heart in the psalms, and expresses His desire for
God, his rage against his enemies, his doubts, his fears, his hopes, his
failings. When we read it, we relate. The exposure brings us closer. It impacts
our lives. We feel David’s pain, experience his victory, and draw closer to his
God.
God Himself is vulnerable. He exposes His character for everyone
to see; opens Himself up for our ridicule and misunderstanding; and reveals
Himself through creation, His word, and personal experience. I think He’s the
definition of true vulnerability.
But something stands in the way of being vulnerable: fear.
It’s scary revealing parts of ourselves, and opening up to others' judgements. It’s safer wearing masks, staying behind bounds,
being someone else, hidden, buried, trapped.
People’s comments hurt less; people’s criticisms aren’t so personal. No one can
intentionally hurt my feelings if they don’t know what they are. But fear is a
trap. It’s a barrier that closes around
us, and stops us from being who we were created to be. God says “Perfect love
casts out fear.” (1 John 4:18). He wants us to be secure in His love, and live
unashamed, unbound; free.
I’m not suggesting a life of total exposure where everyone
knows everything, or sharing emotions to manipulate others. I’m not saying this world needs more bed-head selfies and
breakfast photos. It needs more heart, more soul. It needs more art. It needs
more honesty, more genuineness, more humility. It needs vulnerability.
Our heart is a muscle. It hurts to open it up, stretch it.
It’s not always going to be comfortable being vulnerable. But a heart emptied
equals a heart filled. If it can bring a little hope to humanity, bring people together,
let someone realise they’re not alone, draw us closer to God’s ideal, I think
it’s worth the risk. God’s opinion is more important than what others think.
Being who God made me to be is more important than being who others want me to
be. Being uncomfortable for the cause of God is more important than living life
protected in a hard case. It goes against everything in me, but by His grace, I want to be vulnerable.
P.s This blog is where I share most openly. Admittedly, it
isn’t much, but you guys have seen more of my heart and soul than I reveal
to a lot of people, and I want to say a huge thank-you for making this a safe
and supportive place.
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Is there something you have been ruminating on recently? What are your thoughts on vulnerability? And how do you think we can use vulnerability to bless and encourage others? I'm eager to hear!