Finding Beauty in Vulnerability
“There is a lot more in Bilbo than you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself.”
Three years ago this month, I left the U.S. for a grand adventure in New Zealand — three months learning about God’s love, off-the-grid on a remote island. It felt like I was finally getting the opportunity to live out my dream of being a hobbit. And I suppose, in a way, I was a bit like Bilbo, discovering who I really was by being stretched beyond my comfort zone. For me, the uncomfortable part was living in community.
I’m an introvert and an only child. Spending three months living in close quarters with 60 people I’d never met was a challenge and certainly not where I imagined I’d experience beauty. Enjoying the freedom to roam the island alone after our morning teaching was more my style. But beauty that is found through our interaction with God’s creation includes not only flora and fauna, but his children as well. To be sure, I experienced wonderful times of divine peace trekking rainforest trails either alone or with my husband; but I also met God in the beautiful hearts of those who lived with me in our community.
One day stands out clearly. I set out by myself to find a waterfall which I believed to be located a short hike from the main road. As I walked further up the creek, the overgrowth became more dense. I found a small, unimpressive waterfall, but I was sure that I would discover something better if I persevered on the overgrown trail. At last, my persistence paid off. Before me was a lovely cascade of clear, cold water pooling amongst the rocks at my feet.
The solitude was glorious. I don’t often listen to music when I’m out in nature. I usually prefer to listen to the sound of the wind and the birds, but that day I felt compelled to take out my phone and play a favorite worship song. I removed my shoes, rolled up my pants, stepped into the cool water and danced. There was such freedom in this simple, solitary act. I had no need to perform, only a desire to be. As the light danced on the water, God’s presence surrounded me. Joy welled from within, and I was at home.
After some time, I felt a nudge to put my phone back in my pocket and put my shoes on. Refreshed and smiling, I stepped in and out of the brush as I made my way back down the creek. Suddenly, I noticed a vibrant blue in the distance. As it came near me, I realized it was someone’s jacket. Who else had discovered this trail? A moment later, one of our group leaders emerged from behind the trees. “You’ve discovered my secret place!” she exclaimed. “This is the place where I heard God speak to me three years ago. He called me his pearl.”
I knew that God had nudged me to return so that this precious woman could also spend time with him there. He had already revealed himself to her in that very place three years prior. And now he had done the same for me. I returned to my room with a renewed sense of wonder at the way God meets us in our need —the way he reveals his heart to his children. I wondered how God was meeting others in our group. What were they discovering about God, about themselves, and about others?
Eventually, in our small groups or around the dinner table, we began to share about these kinds of encounters. We gradually let our guard down and let others into our hearts. We shared mountain hikes and late night stargazing with people from every continent and diverse generations. It was beautiful to see shallow chit-chat evolve into deep conversations and loving relationships. Of course this was easier for some than others — cultural differences and personality traits can strongly influence our interpersonal relationships; but there is no doubt we all grew in our openness and vulnerability.
Beautiful friends along the journey…
My heavenly Father had shown me his deep love, but he had also reminded me of his love for all his children — his pearls. He wants each of us to know that we are precious in his sight, but he also wants us to see the beauty in others. Sometimes, God allows us to glimpse things in others that they do not recognize in themselves. In those moments, we can be an encouragement — a light in their darkness.
A couple years ago, I heard Lisa Bevere proclaim that God doesn’t love all his children equally. There was a long pause as everyone wondered if that might be a little heretical. She went on to explain that to suggest God loves his children equally is to imply that God’s love can be measured. But it cannot. God’s love is infinite, and he loves each of his children uniquely. There is no limit to the love that is available.
“Vulnerability unlocks the beauty God has placed in our hearts.”
You will get a more complete picture of God’s love if you begin to observe how he loves others — deeply, uniquely, completely. And this can only be done if we are willing to share our hearts with those around us. The defensive walls we build around our own hearts ultimately impede our growth. When we begin to let God tear down the walls, his love can flow more freely.
One of the most important lessons I learned during my three month adventure in New Zealand is that vulnerability unlocks the beauty God has placed in our hearts. Perhaps it’s easiest to find God’s fingerprint in nature because it requires less vulnerability from us. As delightful as it is, standing in awe at the beauty of a waterfall requires little. But taking time to know the heart of another human being, or even to truly know your own heart, involves risk. The possibility of rejection, abandonment, or disappointment can loom large. And yet, it is worth the risk. When we keep God’s love to ourselves, we miss out on the richness of learning to love as he does. We miss the pearls he has placed before us.
Do you pause to see God’s reflection in the people you see everyday? Like Bilbo Baggins are you willing to take the risk of journeying with people who are unlike you — people who do life differently? Today, let me encourage you to step outside your comfort zone. Take the risk. Say yes to the journey. Such adventures teach us who we really are.
