I held my breath as she spoke the words.

She said it out loud, the very thing I thought was unspeakable. I didn’t know you could admit that to a room of peers and live. As she told her story, her struggle, I couldn’t breathe. And then suddenly, I was energized. I was free. It was like I’d been given CPR and my heart and lungs were on fire with life.

“I did too.” I spoke. I shared a secret shame I’d never admitted before. And I admitted it all at once to a room full of friends. It felt scandalous, but somehow I knew I was safe.

If she could be real about the ugly, then so could I.

There’s something raw about someone welcoming you into their brokenness, into their mess. It reminds us that we are safe, no matter the circumstances. Their fearlessness calls to us to set our fears aside. We are free to choose connection over self-preservation.

If Vulnerability is the precious princess, then Self-Preservation is her ugly step-sister. She builds up walls and draws the curtains so no one can see that the house is a mess. Self-Preservation believes the lie, “I better get this right because it’s all up to me.” She can’t afford to fail because if she does, she’s doomed. She cannot let anyone know she’s not perfect, because then they’ll know the ugly truth that she’s been trying to hide: she’s not good enough. And so the step-sister compares and competes. She judges and justifies.

Staci Eldredge posed a question in her book, Captivating, that forever changed the way I think about vulnerability. 

“What if you have a genuine and captivating beauty that is marred only by your striving?”

A spirit at rest, a heart that believes in its own acceptance, is warmer than a summer sunbeam. Like light streaming through the window, it beckons you to come outside and play, full of wonder and awe. It’s absent of striving. It’s perfectly at rest. It is pure unadulterated beauty.

The voices of other’s opinions and the pressure of my own performance are quieted in the assurance of acceptance.

This is only possible when we believe that Jesus meant what He said when He breathed, “It is finished.” (see John 19:30) Our security, our place with Him in the Kingdom, our identity- it’s all settled. Our past has been forgiven, our present is provided for, and our future is secure. 

Here’s what Ephesians 1 says about our identity:

• We are accepted in the Beloved. 

• We are blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.

• We are chosen.

• We are holy and blameless

• We are adopted as children of God.

• We have redemption and forgiveness.

• We have grace lavished upon us.

• We have an inheritance that is guaranteed by the Holy Spirit Himself.
  

I’ve found that the more secure I am in who Jesus calls me to be, the more open I am with my humanity. I no longer need to hide, because it’s no longer about me. I can be open about my faults, my wounds, my guilt, my sin, my depravity, because it all points to my incredible overwhelming need for Jesus the King. And He calls me accepted. Loved. Redeemed. 

So the call is this.

It’s part of our job sisters, to be open about the places we need redemption. What if your fear of being seen is the very thing keeping someone else from meeting their answer? 

Our friends’ hearts are at stake. Our sisters, our daughters. They need to hear this message that they are free to be beautiful. They need our fearlessness to beckon them to set their fears aside.

Through the tapestry of vulnerability runs the gleaming thread of Jesus, the Answer. My need…and your need my friend, will always point us to Him.