Being vulnerable feels wrong. To willingly speak publicly, or at all, about what stirs your heart requires next-level courage. I forget that when I listen to speakers. I go purposefully to sit and listen. Most of the time I even pay to do so. 

Beth Moore speaks to countless women, large arenas full of them. At a conference I attended, after she finished speaking, her exit trajectory took her a couple of yards from my seat in the arena.  I could feel her discomfort from where I sat, like waves rolling off of her. She shares readily about her struggle with anxiety, but to personally witness the severity of it sticks in my memory. 

For two days, she stood on that stage in front of us all and shared from her heart. She shared scripture, told stories, and challenged our thinking. I enjoyed every second of it. She appeared confident, knowledgeable, and wise. Beth even danced around with the worship leaders with reckless abandon. To see her walk away quaking made no sense to me at the time.

Flash forward to a few weekends ago. I stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself. I poured out my heart just a few moments before. The ladies in attendance sat chatting, answering the questions for discussion I sent in prior to the event. I did not eat prior to speaking for fear I would burp, throw up, pass out or die. So, I decided to eat something since I was done.

“But where do I sit,” I thought. The problem of what to do was answered, but not where to do it. I wandered, fidgeted, and felt conspicuously out of place. I joined a table only to discover the questions I provided were a bit too deep and vulnerable to discuss with strangers. More awkward. My bad.

At the conclusion of the event, as people stood to leave, there I stood again, unsure of what to do with myself. It felt wrong to just go home while the event rolled on. The decision to stay was the correct decision, but after speaking I felt more like a box of puzzle pieces than a put-together person. All of me was there, but I felt rather undone.

Thankfully, the urge to run get in my car did not win. I stood there trying to appear smiley and welcoming, you know…like the person who had been up front talking easily into a microphone, singing even… with hand motions. I probably would have danced too had I not decided to confine myself to a stool. But there I stood, intensely wishing invisibility on myself. I thought of Beth Moore.

This week a friend from church bravely shared on Facebook something she wrote about her life. The times I have heard her share were couched in a good bit of emotion, but the bits and pieces she shared before left me wanting to hear more. Seeing her words written and shared made me so happy. My happiness stemmed from knowing how her vulnerability will help others. 

When God leads us to a thing, He doesn’t expect the edited studio version of us to show up. His interest lies only in our willingness to show up as we are. 

In her book Waymaker: Finding The Way To The Life You’ve Always Dreamed Of  Ann Voskamp proposes that we have an “internal Expectational Positioning System” that informs “where we think we should be by now on the road, of where the road is supposed to go, expectations of how we’d be loved, of how long we’d all have together, of the way everything is expected to work out in the end.”

Our own worst enemy is most often the one staring back at us in the mirror. My own expectational positioning system derails me at every turn. It calibrates itself using lies told repeatedly by the enemy of my soul. I would bet yours does too. Am I wrong?

I shared with the ladies that day how God provides the on-the-job-training we need for any calling we have. He also provides the strength to accomplish the task. After having time to think about that day, I realized the reason I felt undone had to do with my power source. Fresh from an experience made possible only by God’s strength holding me up and His confidence indwelling me, I felt gravity, humanity, and my own strength again. I won’t forget that quake-worthy difference anytime soon.

We perch on top of gold mines, all of us. Our stories contain the keys that will lead others to understanding, breakthrough, freedom and more. The enemy of our souls convinces us to discount so much. We buy shame wholesale and store it away inside ourselves at great detriment to our lives and ministries.

I believe embracing the vulnerability required to pursue our callings is a worthwhile endeavor… even if we feel undone afterwards. There is no small calling. And, that calling likely will not take you anywhere near a stage. It will, however, require vulnerability. It will require dependance on God and will most likely be outside your comfort zone. 

The question I want you to consider is this: Are you more concerned with what your expectational positioning system says or what the Holy Spirit is whispering in your ear? Please don’t let shame keep you from embracing all the goodness God has for your life. I am on that journey too. We can journey together.