Grace Factories

“To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God's grace means.” ~ Brennan Manning 

Here's a newly uncovered truth... Vulnerability terrifies me.

Seriously, that's news to me.

I'm not talking about the vulnerability that living in normal community requires. I can do that. And not the vulnerability that friendship depends upon. I can do that.

I'm talking about the exposure of authentic soul-bearing that comes with living life intimately with trusted, bosom friends. People who know all your junk, the highs, the lows, your dreams, and fears, the beautiful, and the ugly, the lovely, and the shameful stuff you'd never want anyone to know. And people who give you the privilege of sharing their big messes with you, their weaknesses, strengths, victories, and failures, and are willing to let you see the raw truth of what it looks like when life hits the fan. People who can speak truth and grace into your life and will let you speak the same into theirs.

"It is one of the severest tests of friendship to tell your friend his faults. So... to speak painful truth through loving words, that is friendship." ~ Henry Ward Beecher

I'm taking about those mutual relationships where both sides are second-chance grace people. (Rick Warren's term) Where deep truth and limitless mercy walk side-by-side.

Don't just pretend to love others. 

Really love them. 

Hate what is wrong. 

Hold tightly to what is good. 

Love each other with genuine affection, 

and take delight in honoring each other. 

— Romans 12:9-10

Grace factories. People who look at every detail of your brokenness — the shards of what has shattered — and see a mosaic that's beautiful. They don't just see the mess, they see the redemption built into it. Or at least they're willing to trust that God can take the mess that is me (or you) and make something beautiful.

 

  But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. — 2 Corinthians 12:9

  He has saved us and called us to a holy life — not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time — 2 Timothy 1:9

I don't think I do that well because down deep it scares the woowee out of me.

But, I want to.

At my weakest moments, it feels like all I have to offer is brokenness and failure. My story is certainly one of a lot of brokenness and spectacular failure.

We want to avoid suffering, death, sin, ashes.
But we live in a world crushed and broken and torn,
a world God Himself visited to redeem. We receive His poured-out life,
and being allowed the high privilege of suffering with Him,
may then pour ourselves out for others.
~ Elisabeth Elliot

God uses broken things. 

It takes broken soil to produce a crop, 

broken clouds to give rain, 

broken grain to give bread, 

broken bread to give strength. 

It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. 

It is Peter, weeping bitterly, 

who returns to greater power than ever. ~ Vance Havner

The truth is that God does use broken things. That is the truth of my story and of yours. He remakes us. He transforms us as we step out into the vulnerability of authentic relationship with others in the Body of Christ and extend understanding, comfort, mercy, help, and love to those around us.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. — 2 Corinthians 1:3-5

But, it takes vulnerability.

So, in theory, yes, I want to live that transparently with close, trusted friends, but... Yikes!

"Broken people are willing to take the risks of getting close to others and loving intimately." — Nancy Leigh DeMoss

Why is it so scary?

For me, it comes down to fear of rejection. The fear that says "If you only knew the real me, you would probably not want to be my friend." The fear that remembers those who bailed. Those who hurt me. And those that I hurt.

Maybe you can relate. 

I've been betrayed, lied to, rejected, blamed, discarded... I felt very alone in a 20+ year marriage and was eventually left actually alone. The person who covenanted before God and about a thousand family and friends to love and cherish me until death do us part spent years slowly abdicating his husbandhood. He said he didn't think he "should have to" make the effort to be married for a lifetime in a healthy manner, to repent of his wrongs and hear my repentance, to mutually submit, and mutually rebuild something lovely. Our family wasn't worth the effort. I wasn't worth the effort.

So vulnerability makes my insides quake. Why? Because when you give people your heart, they can really, really, really hurt you.

Is vulnerability with others scary for you, too?

I have a fear of heights. A bad one. No, fear is too small a word. It's a phobia. Some of my worst nightmares involve skyscrapers (even standing at the bottom of one and looking up makes me dizzy!), falling off of a cliff, and tightrope walking (Nik Wallenda walking 1/4 mile tightrope across the Grand Canyon, 1500 feet up, on a 2" tightrope, in heavy 30-mph winds gave me hives. I couldn't look and yet couldn't look away!).

Several years ago my family was at a water park and my kids double-dog-dared me to do the big slide, called "The Liquidator" with them. Two or three stories high -- I forget, so let's just say three because that sounds better -- it had steps up to the top platform where you entered the slide. I thought, "I can do this. I'll just walk the steps looking up and never look down. *Deeep breath*... Piece of cake."

Up up up we went. And when we got to the top, I made the catastrophic error of looking out over the water park showing just how high we were in a little wooden tower, so I made the obvious choice and slammed my body down flat on my belly on the platform and prayed out loud, "Sweet Jesus, help me!"

My kids were flipping out, "Mama! Get UP! You're embarrassing us!" But, I could no more get up than I could fly, so I army crawled to the slide, made my way in it with eye-rolling water park attendees having no empathy that I was sure I was going to die in the process.

Not my finest moment.

At the bottom I vowed that I would never do anything that scared me again.

Vulnerability makes me shake.

It's just not smart to do things that scare you, right?

Here's the only problem with that: Jesus totally called us to live life in intimate community, and to live a life out on the edge where it's scary!

But, just google "Do not fear" to see how many Bible verses command us not to be afraid!

Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you. — Deuteronomy 31:6

This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.— Joshua 1:9

David also said to Solomon his son, "Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you — 1 Chronicles 28:20

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. — Isaiah 41:10

Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong. 1 Corinthians 16:13

We just don't have permission to go through life not doing the scary stuff. That doesn't mean we have to trust people right off the bat. That's not even wise. Relationships take time and effort and mutual care and love. And people are going to fall short. They're going to hurt you and they're going to hurt me. Even the second chance grace people. Even though they don't mean to. And, the truth is that I will hurt others. Even though I don't mean to.

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: What! You too? I thought I was the only one." — C.S. Lewis

Cultivating a circle of friends who walk and live in authenticity, and I mean real, soul-bearing truth, who are committed to radical grace might be scary, but I think we can do it. What about you?

Maybe it's time to try "The Liquidator" again.

Or... maybe it's time to skydive.