Tag Archives: vulnerability

Humour dissection

12 Mar

I read this today. And I’m taking it on.

You – who read my blog, wise tribe – may not be recipient of my frequent sarcasm. Usually it is directed at myself. And for people who can take it – they get some too. I suppose this is a place I’m pretty gendered in my categorisations. Read: I think boys can take it, girls can’t.

Someone close to me asked me once if that was my modus operandi for flirting – and shocked me. Me? Good little Christian girl, know how to flirt? He only barely got away with that one being a good friend… 🙂 But it made me examine myself – perhaps and I need to be accountable there. BUT if it were, it would be sweet and gentler? Haha, I don’t know.

Sarcasm is funny. It makes people laugh. I love making people laugh. I use sarcasm.

Logical? Mostly. Except sarcasm is not all funny.

The same friend also asked me if my humour was my defence mechanism. Why did I joke about something that could hurt me?

I told you he was a good friend… That was just it. It could hurt and so I diffused it with humour. But I end up diffusing every potentially vulnerable situation with humour.

And what is the problem with having a coping strategy that works every time, you ask? This.

I am my real-est, I am myself with nothing else when I am at my most vulnerable. This is the kernel of knowledge that I (or the other person or both of us) have allowed to survive, inside the contexts and interactions of any of my best relationships. At my most vulnerable, I am also welcoming to God. It is when I stand there, that I can open the door of my heart. I run away from vulnerability until there’s a ringing manufacturer recall.

And that is the other problem with some of my humour. Even when it is targeted towards myself, self-deprecatingly, it is because I fail to honour what God has put in me. I fail to have the courage to speak boldly. With modesty but no fear. With security in the identity and love that comes from a relationship with God.

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iAnalyse

7 Apr

I analyse. Incessantly. Mostly myself, mostly critically, ‘most all the time…

Here is what I have come up with. I have upper-middle class sympathies and inclinations, I am quick to recoil from the failings of society that can be massed into a statistic, I have several of my own failings that sadly are less open to scrutiny. I don’t know if analysing my categorisability will make me want to fall into another category… In fact, I don’t think it will. But I am intrigued by the quirks of judgement that go with categories and labels.

Teen pregnancy, alcoholism, addiction, lack of a college education – Lord, may it never come into our lives. And I agree – amen! I don’t want it there. But but – there is little said about the domestic friction, the violence in Indian homes, the gender dominance, the deep-seated resentment of familial structure and dependence – these things, we will never bemoan openly.

I’m not bringing down the standards. Far from it. I’m saying in giving ourselves obvious standards, social standards, we find it easy to be the new ‘genteel unhappy’…

The Lord weighs the heart…

And then there is more to my self-analysis. This is the real cruncher. The level at which I analyse most of the time… Just plain ol’ me. I don’t know where you are on this spectrum – but you can be objective about your thoughts, about your beliefs, you can tell when you’re irrational, you can tell when you’re instinctive, you. can. criticise. and be your worst opponent in an argument.

This is a blessing. I kid you not. I mean, it’ll take you a while to find out but it really is… Because when it comes to accountability, you’ve already done the hard work. I am also grateful for the times when this isn’t self-induced but instead I am listening to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, convicting, moving and gently nudging to acknowledge truth, to hear His heartbeat and not my own.

And although it hurts, and although your self will try to take over and be merciless, I love that vulnerability in the presence of God.

I give you all my pieces, Lord. Hold me together. And take the unbroken parts and break open the flaws set in stone… Change my heart.  Find it here, as I lay myself before you. I give you only broken worship. There is no one else I trust, but You – Your Holy Spirit and His revelations, and the people you use and nudge me to listen. Hold me close into wholeness then. I do, I really do – I give you all my pieces.

Tienen tu color

13 Mar

Church today was one of those days.

You knowwhen your heart is all scrunched up and hurting because you recognise – thud thud thud BOOM BOOM BOOM – this is the voice you love. Every time I come into his presence and feel the whisper of his love, his arms, his voice – the vulnerability gets me.

HE made HIMSELF vulnerable to us. Forever. You know, once you’ve stripped away your defenses, everyone always knows they’re defenses, nothing else… Ever had someone hurt you really badly? Only the people you love can really do that… unfortunately! And the pain lasts! Unless – unless you have then opened up yourself to the other person. Completely. And they have to you. And you’ve talked about it. And then the love lasts…

On the cross, Jesus bore all our pain. Sometimes familiar words become innocuous… Jesus. felt. all. our. pain. All that was then and would be now. Emotional, mental, physical – wrenching pain in the foreknowledge of which he prayed in agony in that garden. Alone. And we kept hurting him. And in that pain, as he was dying, as he was being fully human, more human than any of us could be, he was opening up his space as God. The veil tore.

And we saw into the holy of holies. The heart of a God who loved us enough to die for us, to give us his dearest, most precious relationship – so he could have ours. The heart of a God who hurt under all the sin of our making, whose glory physically could not hold the sickness of sin. The heart of a God which we now could see – everyone could see if they wanted to look.

Putting that veil back there now is kinda pointless. There is power in knowledge.

And he was giving that power to us – to know that that was how much he loved us.

This is the God I want to follow. I want nothing outside of his will, or his glory. Nothing outside of him. His will for my life, for my career, for my relationships… for the things he knows I need I cannot put in words or don’t even know of. I want his glory to come rest on what has been in my life, what is and whatever will be. And intentionally, I want to make my life about him, in the fullest sense.

We shortchange God’s purposes for us and think to be ‘good’ is what he wants us to be, to be churched, to be ‘regular’ or even to be faithful… YES, oh yes, he does want that… But he wants so much more. He wants the riches of the nations, the hidden treasures, the purpose He set us apart for before we were born, the glory of the Lord, the honour of His name in our lives.

He doesn’t want much but he wants everything – He wants us. Don’t make this my prayer. It isn’t – although God knows I need it… But I’m telling you this, so you can nod and smile and join me in giving him this.

I want my thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and desires to be his. For people, to somehow hear his voice in my words – to see when I mess up, and to see his grace. To want to seek him, to see him. I know that I am unworthy, except for him. I want him to be my all. The fragrance of Christ in me, the stamp of the Spirit dwelling in me and moving out through me. Even. me.

Esas palabras del cantador, Jesus Adrian Romero, expresan mis sentimientos maravillosamente:

Todos mis anelos tienen tu color
tienen el latido de tu corazon,
yo no quiero nada sin tu direccion

Todos mis anelos son de ti señor
tienen tu cadencia, tienen tu pasion,
no me importa nada solo tu favor.

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