If you’ve followed my writings for any length of time, you know that I’m pretty transparent. I’m real with you about my struggles, my weaknesses, my inabilities along this journey of faith.
This bothers some people. Mostly people who know me personally. “You don’t need to share everything,” they say. “It looks bad.”
At one point in my life I probably agreed with them. If you go back far enough in my blog you will likely see a different, more-reserved version of me than what you get nowadays.
That’s because I came to a turning point several years ago. I was talking to an acquaintance about something they were struggling with. This person looked at me - almost with an eye roll - and said, “oh, you wouldn’t understand.”
It wasn’t the words that hurt, but the implication that my life was unrelatable. Because I understood exactly how that person was feeling in that tragedy. I’d been there. But they had no idea because, up until that point, I never wrote about the storms, just the sunshine and rainbows.
Now, for most people, I know that’s not a big deal. People deserve privacy. Not everything is public knowledge. But I felt called to be a witness to Christ. I felt called to evangelization. So, for me, being unrelatable was a very big deal. It meant failure.
So I started being more transparent when I wrote… I didn’t try to hide my familiarity with dysfunction, tragedy, toxic relationships, chronic health issues, trauma. All the uglies that most people want to just brush under the rug.
I started being honest about where I come from and what I’ve been through. What I’ve done and what I’ve failed to do. Because here’s the thing: I don’t have faith in spite of those things, but BECAUSE of them!
Those things are the dark canvas against which the light of Christ has shone in my life. The only reason I’ve seen the Heavenly rainbows is because I’ve felt the torrential storms.
I don’t preach “Jesus is my savior” because it sounds nice. I preach “Jesus is my savior” because I’ve quite literally needed saved. Not once, not twice. But every dang day for 45 years.
I’m so blessed because I’ve been so broken. I think it’s my gift.
And so, while some people may not like my transparency, “I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me…For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
(2 Corinthians 12:9-10)
And I wish this for you, too. May you come to embrace your weakness, friend. And may the power of the good Lord rest upon you and give you His power and strength.
Your broken blogger