There is Power in Vulnerability

By Jen Kline

I am writing today about this word because I believe it is about to change my life. Let me explain.

Growing up it has always been very hard for me to be vulnerable. At some point in my childhood I made a decision that the world around me was not safe and that I needed to protect myself. Protecting myself meant I could not be vulnerable, especially around people. So for years I found ways to avoid being in a place of vulnerability.

I would ignore conflict. I would suppress feelings. I would avoid certain relationships. I would distract myself with being busy and producing and being very involved in anything I could get my hands on. I worked hard and often. I filled my social schedule with anything I could put in it. I did everything big. I even filled the air with my own voice, talking so much in the hopes I could drown out anything that would tell me it was OK to slow down enough to be in a vulnerable place. Sounds exhausting doesn’t it? Well, it was, but let me tell you that what I did as a child and the things I did to protect myself were healthy for me. It was a natural way for me to process all that was happening around me and I’m thankful for it. But 43 years later, it’s exhausting. I’m done. Cashed in. I can’t do it anymore.

This is a new season of facing the vulnerable parts of who I am and this life I have and it’s time to move forward in a way that is good for me. In a way that is real to the people around me and in a way that is honest about my journey with God.

With this journey I am on The Lord is revealing so much to me as I’ve slowed down. He’s spoken beautiful things, brought back precious memories and allowed me to feel a wide range of feelings I was avoiding for all of these years. Often when I am in this place I look to Jesus to see His response to the very human things we deal with, the very hard things on this earth. And I had this thought; When I watched my husband play Jesus in The River Church’s production of The Passion Play, the hardest part of that story for me was when Jesus the Creator of heaven and earth is standing before Pilate and every one is yelling at Him and there is this question as to whether or not they should pick Barabas or Jesus.

My heart aches at this moment every single time. I’m thinking to myself, JESUS! You are GOD! Stand UP! Fight! Do some kind of amazing miracle to save You from this awful fate. Stop them. Change their minds… yell at them! Hit them, run away, and tell them why they are wrong. Tell them who you ARE! Do whatever you have to do to defend Yourself! But He doesn’t. He actually never does. He’s vulnerable. One thing I know about Jesus is His absolute confidence and connectedness to the Father. And I realize the two ingredients Jesus had to always be in a place of vulnerability.

The first is that He was never ashamed of Who He was or what He was there to do. He was present in every moment on earth. He wasn’t distracted or confused. He knew exactly why He was healing, speaking against the Pharisees, challenging the law, and doing things on Sabbath days. He had no shame.

The second is that He knew He was not alone. Even when He begged God to take this cup from Him I believe He knew that God was with Him. He was fully aware of God's presence with Him each and every moment.

If there is power in vulnerability, imagine what that would look like in our families, in our friendships, in our relationships with friends. What if our language and our conversations with our kids were more compassionate and vulnerable? What if we could actually tell our kids that we were having a hard time feeling some emotions, or even cried in front of them? What if we told our husbands the parts of our hearts we’ve been hiding? What if we could tell our friends that we are having a hard time with our finances or that the thing they said to us the other day hurt us? How would we impact each other? How could we impact our community? We wouldn’t have to win all the time; we wouldn’t desire so much control over other people. We could “name” what we were struggling with and let people know what we are about to say to them is very hard and difficult to our hearts. We could listen and we could love people despite their inability to know how to love us well.

It would change our lives.

It wouldn’t make life easier, but I believe that as we really pay attention to the sadness and the difficulties, we would also experience a richer, more vibrant joy in powerful vulnerability.