On Vulnerability and Sharing Even When It's Hard

If I were to be honest, simply writing this post is a stretch for me. Five years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to push the "Publish" button; today I'm wondering if I'm really ready to take that step again.


There was a time when I did not hesitate to share my story. My story was as much a part of me as my name. It was my passion, my message, my hope. I shared it because I knew that God would use it to help someone. I wasn't ashamed of it because God brought me through it. I knew the places God rescued me from and I knew that He could do the same for so many others.


So I shared without hesitation because at the end of the day, it wasn't my story to tell.


It was His.


Somewhere along the way, though, I stopped sharing what had become such an integral part of my life and ministry. I allowed the voices of people around me to plant doubt in what I felt God calling me to do with my life. I slammed the door on the plans, dreams, and passions of my heart because they made me uncomfortable. I stopped writing because if I didn't write from a place of vulnerability, then I had nothing to share.


I started praying for God to give me a new passion. Something normal. Something less vulnerable. Something safe. I remember praying for a life that didn't involve having to speak up about uncomfortable topics.


"Maybe I'll just live a normal life... stop writing altogether. I don't need to write to fulfill a purpose. I don't need to put myself out there. Someone else can do it. I can live behind the scenes and make just as much of an impact."


So I did. I stopped writing. I stopped speaking up about the topics that were important to me. I stopped being vulnerable. When people asked about my dreams, I had vague answers:


"Oh, you know. Have kids eventually, I guess."


"Work."


"Go back to school."


I traded a life full of meaning and passion for something I honestly didn't want to do. Deep down, I wanted to spur on change in this world. I wanted to reassure people that there is hope and freedom. I wanted people to know that they weren't alone.


But I wasn't willing to step outside of my comfort zone to do it. I was paralyzed by the fear of what people would think or say.


After living a few years like this, I realized that I'd been living my life at a distance. I kept people at arms length. I didn't let people get close. When they asked questions, I'd give them simple answers. Nothing too revealing. Nothing too interesting. Nothing more than what they needed to know.


Sometimes we allow the voices around us to dictate how we feel about ourselves, our situations, and our beliefs. We allow people who shouldn't have much say in our lives to have all of the say. We ignore God's gentle nudging on our hearts because we don't think it fits into how other people view us.


It took me a couple of years to realize what I was doing. I thought I was being smart. I thought I was listening to God. I thought I was following a new purpose... that I had misunderstood what I was supposed to do with my life.


Then someone brought up the topic. Someone knew someone who had an eating disorder, who struggled with depression. And the things that I had stuffed down for so long came bubbling back up to the surface. I wanted to share. I wanted to help. I wanted to let someone know that they were not alone.


Because I remembered what it was like to feel alone in this often silent struggle. I remembered how hopeless I felt. I remembered what it was like to feel misunderstood.


God used that situation to revive a dream and a passion I purposely let die. He reminded me of the things that made me feel alive, made me speak up. He gave me the nudging I needed to take a step out of the boat.


God uses vulnerability. He uses the things that are hard to make the biggest impact. If He's calling you to do something you're uncomfortable doing, there's always a bigger purpose behind it.

More

I don't do New Year's resolutions... Never have. Never will.

It probably has something to do with the fact that I don't like doing the "in" thing. If everyone else is doing it, count me out... even if it's something I know I'd like and could possibly be beneficial for my life. I'd rather wait for the hype to pass and then delve into whatever it was that somehow managed to capture the attention of everyone else. Being associated with the "crowd" seriously gives me the heebie-jeebies.

New Year's resolutions are one of those things I avoid like the plague. Along with a certain singer whose name rhymes with "fever".

I like the concept. I like setting goals (believe me, I'm an awesome goal-setter). It's the follow through that bothers me. Or really, lack of follow through.

Because really, how many of us actually keep our New Year's resolutions throughout the entire year? How many of us actually reach the goals we set for ourselves? How many of us give up only after one week? Or two days?

If I made resolutions, I can promise you I'd fall into the latter category. Every. Single. Time.

Just the other day, I told the Mr. that we really need to start making an effort to workout. Because we're not getting any younger, and I'm pretty sure our occasional Ramen-noodle diet is going to do some serious things to our heart.

Serious as in not good things.

So, being the naturally compliant husband he is, he said "Ok."

Simple as that. Accountability made.

Later that day, he broached the topic. While I was in the middle of eating a bowl of peppermint ice cream, mind you.

The Mr: "So, are we going to go workout tonight?"

Me: "Uh, no."

The Mr.: "Well, you said you wanted to. I'm just making the effort."

Me: "It's too late...and cold."

The Mr: "Ok. Just asking."

And that's how I single-handedly broke a goal I'd made not even 6 hours earlier.

So New Year's resolutions? Um, rather not. 

Despite my reluctance to set resolutions, I do desire change. I want to intentionally start the year off right. I want this year to be better than the last. I want to seize opportunities by the horn and not let them go.

I read a blog over at (in)courage this morning that really got me thinking. It talked about "rewriting" our New Year's resolutions and choosing ONE word to sum up who you want to be and how you want to live this year. One word to guide your thoughts, your actions, and your purposes throughout the year. One word by which to shape everything you do each and every day.

My word for the New Year is more.

Not as in more money. More stuff. More opportunity. More pursuits.

More as in more love. More grace. More trust. More truth. More faith. More commitment. More intentionality. More understanding. More sacrifice.

...and less self-focus.

As I think about the year ahead, I see more. I see the unraveling of a purpose that will lead to more of the good things and less of the bad. I see opportunities that will create more trust in God and who He says I am. I see a chance for more growth - personally, relationally, and spiritually. When I look 2014 in the face, I see God doing more in and through my life.

So I don't have a resolution. I don't have a list of measurable goals that I'll forget about in five seconds.

I have an intentionality to seek out the more and become more to those around me.

 

Happy New Year!

Love Josh, Alexis, The Holy Terror & Miss-Priss