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Being authentic in one's vulnerability, in my opinion, is hands down the most relatable and relevant way of being. Again, in my opinion, it's also the hardest way to be because it requires you to admit your weaknesses, your struggles, your ups and your downs. It requires that you allow others to see the mess you really are because after all, we are all a mess. It's not easy to be authentic, but gosh, it is so admirable.

I have been crazy blessed with a handful of people in my life who are the definition of authentic. I've been reading a lot about authenticity in leadership and what that looks like and every time I get to a paragraph or sentence that is saturated with the beauty of what authentic living is, I can think of examples, which makes me the definition of lucky.

Vulnerability does not come natural to me, although I'm not sure it comes natural to anyone. I'm awkward as it is, and when there's moments where I'm attempting to let someone in, my awkwardness is magnified to the 10th power. I don't make eye contact, my voice turns into just above a whisper, I stammer through my words, and usually can never quite get to what I actually want to say, so I text it to the person after the fact (and for all of those who know me, you know how true that is). The uncanny part of all of this is I would love to just be able to "say what I need to say" (if you just felt the need to sing John Mayer, I totally understand), but like I said vulnerability is hard.

However, the times where I have actually been able to get a sentence or two out in my attempts at vulnerability, I am met with authenticity and when vulnerability meets authenticity, the interaction becomes life-giving. No one says "I'm struggling with this..." and wants to hear text book answers. At least, I don't think anyone does. People want to be listened to. People aren't always looking for all the right answers, but rather someone who will say I don't know the answer, but I'm on you're side and I'll walk with you while you find them. People want to know they aren't alone. They want to be affirmed that they aren't crazy and that others have been through similar experiences. People want people who are authentic and willing to be honest in their vulnerability with them. (Disclaimer: I don't really know what people want so I probably should have just used "I", but that would put the attention on me and you know how I am with that whole being vulnerable thing...;) ).

As I mentioned earlier, I've been reading a lot about authenticity and vulnerability and Henri Nouwen in one of his books says "I have found that they very feeling which has seemed to me most private, most personal and hence most incomprehensible by others, has turned out to be an expression for which there is resonance in many other people. It has led me to believe that what is more personal and unique in each one of us is probably the very element which would, if it were shared or expressed, speak most deeply to others." In moments where I've butchered vulnerability, I've been met with people who were willing to speak deeply to me, who were willing to share stories of brokenness with me, who were willing to lay down doubts of what I might think of their sharing but to share anyway, who were absolutely selfless with their sharing, and who exemplified the statement that "in our woundedness, we can become a source of life for others". Remember when I said that I am the definition of lucky? Case in point.

I think the beauty of vulnerability meeting authenticity is the fact that "hope rises in your heart when you share your pain with each other" (Lisa Gungor). It's being honest with the fact that things aren't always perfect, but there's hope and part of that hope is that you're not alone. Personally, I feel as though when I open the door to invite people into my struggles with me, it's also the beginning of finding the door out of the struggle. If someone else knows and stays, to me, that's hope. Again my boy Nouwen says "who can take away suffering without entering in?"

I love that line because it's describing exactly what Jesus did for us. He entered into suffering so that He could take it away. What a depiciton of selfless love. What a Savior. What an example. I am so thankful that Jesus was, is, and is yet to come. I am so thankful that I know people who have surrendered their lives to this Jesus and who walk out His love. "Jesus is in the middle of the suffering. He's in the middle of the pain and somehow His face is seen when we help each other and share that with each other".

I'm so thankful that I know people who are willing to be vulnerable and authentic and who when I'm in a struggle, somehow help me see His face and become more aware of His presence. It's moments like that among many other moments that make lines like "Your presence is heaven to me" so meaningful. Because when there are moments that point to His presence or help to see His face in the middle of a storm..that's better than a cold drink of water on a super hot day...AND.. Jesus is the cup that won't run dry. Gracious.