Domesticated Dutch-ish: Vulnerability: Whose Corner Will You Stand In?

Do you struggle with fear?
Do you struggle with depression or anxiety?
Do you ever abuse alcohol or other substances?
Have you ever been abused/or abused someone sexually? Physically?

Woah. Talk about in your face. And the thing is...
the list went on and on. Each question more intrusive than the next. |Yeah, they got worse than those!|

But, here what was even more difficult. We didn't get to just think about the questions privately in our brains like you usually get to do at church. We had to write them down. Check a Yes/No for each of our answers on this little card.

And then, believe you me, it got even more terrifying. They COLLECTED our cards. |All of a sudden, I was transported back to middle-school Jess being caught passing a note in class with the name of the boy who I liked on it. I was caught in the act!|

I am sure you can guess the horrific thing that followed. They DISTRIBUTED our cards. Those small index cards with all of our deepest, darkest, most shameful secrets were passed out and placed in the hands of complete and utter strangers. |The teacher, then, was reading my note out loud in front of the class - now, I was really being sold out!|

The only redeeming factor was that our names weren't on the cards. There was some anonymity to be had. Unless you were me. I had doodled all over my card, just out of habit. |Doh.| My mind immediately went to the fact that someone sitting near me could have received my card and had seen me doodling previously. The connection would be made. They would know the darkest corners of my life. I couldn't bare that.

The pastor explained that they would be reading the list of questions off again, except now, we represented the stranger whose card we held. If the answer on "our" card was 'yes' we were instructed to stand up.

I looked around the church, which on average has 3,000 people in attendance each service, and 95% of the audience stood alongside me.

This pattern continued for the remainder of the questions. Every time one of the invasive questions was asked, a struggle I was convinced only I dealt with, an entire church auditorium stood up - someone out in that audience representing my shame, my heart, and my challenges for me.

Being vulnerable exists within two opposing forces - it is both utterly terrifying and utterly freeing. Terrifying because it is in those vulnerable moments we are most easily knocked down, hurt, judged. Freeing because we are finally and truly seen, able to breathe a deep, life-giving breath again.
I don't know about you but, I would like to magnify the freedom and squash the terror.

In that silence I realized vulnerability allows us to connect. As humans we can only reach true levels of connection and intimacy in all of our relationships if we are vulnerable. But, vulnerability is scary thing. It is so scary because usually, when we are vulnerable there aren't 3,000 other people standing up and echoing back "hey, I struggle with that too".

Moments of vulnerability are too often met with moments of judgment and shunning. When, instead, moments of vulnerability should be seen as the beautiful opportunity, to connect and support one another, that they truly are.

Now, hear me when I say, just because there was an auditorium of people who struggled with the same things I did, doesn't mean I am given a "Free Pass". It doesn't get to become one of those "but Mom, everyone else gets to go to the 10:00 movie so I should get to!" scenarios. And to be honest, I don't think a single person in that auditorium that Sunday felt like because they were surrounded with company they should keep doing things that were separating them from God.

In fact, I would argue the complete opposite happened. Seeing people in your corner |you know those guys that put towels on the boxer's shoulders, rub that shiny stuff (what is that, anyways?) on their lips and face, pop their nose back into place in those moments that the fight is almost too much| gives you strength and power to redirect your life. To keep fighting.

Photo credit: www.miscellaneousphotos.org

So, my challenge for all of us is - the next time someone is truly vulnerable with us, why don't we unclench our fists, take our finger out of their chest, and lower our voice? Instead, do the one thing we all need in that moment...

Stand up beside them. |Be the towel putter, shiny stuff rubber, nose popper kind-of person for them in the moments when life has really beat them up|

And, more often than not, we won't find ourselves with 3,000 other people in our corner saying "me too"; most of the time, though, all we need is just one.