Sometimes the cracks show.
Especially now with our not familiar world, the cracks that lie under the surface of our carefully curated selves seem to rise up and show themselves to the world.
These cracks let out our fears, our insecurities, our grief, our anger, our irritants, and our pride. When they seep our hidden faults into public view we try and gather them up, hide them away, so that the people we care about will still continue to care about us.
I don’t like the cracks. I don’t like them because maybe if too many of my cracks show it will distort the picture of who I am in other people’s eyes. And then will they like what they see?
Vulnerability doesn’t come easily. When vulnerability has been thrust upon me because of the cracks, there is a waiting breath to see if people will still like me, still respect me, still want to be in community with me now that they know my imperfections. What if I’m not the person they expected? What if the cracks are too wide for the community to handle?
What if my vulnerability means I’m excluded and unwanted?
In my listening time today (thank you Pray as You Go app) I was reminded that there is a cost to discipleship. One of those costs is our curated personas, the control we think we have and wish we had over how people see us. For me, one of the costs of discipleship is vulnerability.
We can curate our way into community but the ability to change and grow comes from our willingness to be vulnerable.
When Jesus saw the crowd around him, he gave orders to cross to the other side of the lake. Then a teacher of the law came to him and said, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.”
Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”
Another disciple said to him, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”
But Jesus told him, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”
Matthew 8:18-22 NIV
For each of these people there was a cost, just like there is for us. For the teacher, following meant leaving behind status, comfort, and certainty of the future. Jesus calls us out of the places where we have built our safety nets. For the teacher, the safety net might be one of a guaranteed future based on knowledge, reputation, or perhaps control. I understand that impulse. The security that striving and learning has brought and the reputation that we hope will bring us relational security.
And what about the other disciple? What was he being asked to leave behind?
Family or relational expectations of what it means to be a diligent and important person? Societal expectations? Fear of what others will think?
And what about us? What do we leave behind in our pursuit of Jesus?
For me, it means leaving behind some of those things listed above as well as fear, pride, perfection and persona.
What is it for you?
Sometimes the cost of discipleship, of truth and vulnerability that builds trust and connects us with God and community, seems high. Because it requires of us. It requires our willingness to be seen as who we are on our way to being who Christ created us to be. It requires willingness to surrender other people’s opinions and dictation of our self worth. It requires that we acknowledge correction and release perfection. That can be scary. It can be unfamiliar. It can be very very hard. But is it worth it?
But when I think of what is gained, closeness with Jesus, transformation, new life and hope, community that is deep, it is worth it. Every crack.