Remember John the Baptist when he was confined in prison? He was the one Isaiah had predicted, the one who prepared the way of the Lord, the brave one who faced down the religious elite; yet, as He sat in those prison walls, doubt in some way sat with him.
It would’ve been easy for him to hide his confusion, converse with it over and over in his mind, and let no one else enter his self-talk. John didn’t let this happen, however. He took the question that was in his heart, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”, shared it with his disciples, and sent them to Jesus for the answer.
John was vulnerable before his friends. While I’m not suggesting that vulnerability is linked completely with doubt, I do think John provides a great example. In the midst of his deep question regarding Jesus (which completely affected his own ministry), he had to reveal his thoughts to those close to him in order to hear the truth.
For sure, God’s word is our guide and comfort, but God designed us to need more: trusted members of His Body. Again, our walk and our growth are tied with the Word, but God also uses others to help His Word to sink deep. 1 John 1:3-7, Ephesians 2:18-22.
On the field, this can be especially hard. Culture and team dynamics often seem to be the very areas that cause conflict and destruction, and as field workers, we can be perceived as the ones with the answers, not the questions. With the difficulty of knowing who to trust, it’s easy to hunker down, struggle through life questions on our own, and essentially build our own prison walls.
God has designed us to need deep fellowship. Ask Him to show you where He has provided this fellowship for you, develop those friendships, and then enter into the hard aspects of vulnerability with those people He’s given you. He wants you to share life with His body. At times it’s not a particularly comfortable path, but allowing godly others into our self-talk helps destroy the prison of our own making.
When has it been difficult for you to be vulnerable in your adopted country?
“What do you like about being here?”, the woman asked me. She was part of one of our first English speaking work crews who came briefly to help us the second year we were on the field.
As we painted a fence post, my new acquaintance kept up with the normal get-to-know-you questions. The trouble was, I couldn’t respond. No, it wasn’t that my tongue was literally gone, it was just that I seemed frozen. Though I replied something, I couldn’t seem to reveal a thing about my personal life. I felt too vulnerable to open up in even the simplest of ways. Conversations had come so easily to me in the past, so I was left startled by my reaction.
This interaction made it obviously clear that I had closed myself off to any “real” interaction with other women. I was thankful that my husband and I had drawn closer, but I saw how I’d shut down to other Godly input. I was aware that culture shock can partially do this, and that some of the hurts of those first years had caused me to draw in. I also knew, though, that God was asking me to purposely trust Him and reach out. It wasn’t easy to make those first steps to develop deep friendships on the field, but what freedom I experienced as I followed Him and walked in and through those fears.