Vulnerability, briefly

We did not go to our home group meeting tonight. We normally try to. It's a little tricky with a toddler who hasn't learned to survive in another room without direct view of Mommy. We end up dividing and conquering: one parent stays in the group discussion, and one parent stays in the play room. One day it will change. One day I'll be able to follow a train of thought. Right?

Our home group (or small group, care group, life group, cell group, study group... whatever you want to call the collection of people from church who meet in a home in the middle of the week for prayer, discussion and fellowship--and usually light snacks) is a wonderful blessing. There is nothing like it to make you feel more like you are part of a family in a church. Even when nothing ground breaking or profound is revealed or accomplished, our being together somehow strengthened one another. We pray about what is going on in our lives. We share what God is doing with us, what He's saying to our hearts, where He's pointing out the places we need our selfishness to die so His grace has room to live.

There is a level of accountability in meeting regularly with believers.

Accountability is something I have trouble with. I don't usually have trouble sharing where I have trouble. That's not hard for me. It's close to complaining. It's actually close to admitting defeat. "Oh, I can't. I'm a terrible person. Maybe next time I can do better."

Honesty is not hard for me.

I can tell you what I have had trouble with. I can tell you all the things I am afraid of. I can tell you where I struggle, where I am not measuring up, where I have felt conviction, and even whether I have responded or not. Accountability is easy when I set the bar really low. I've already decided what I would tell you, where I will let you in, how much of my shield I will let you think you have seen behind. It keeps me safe, and sets up the facade of being "real" and personal.

Now, what is hard for me is vulnerability.

Being vulnerable is letting you in on my process. The process is not defined, clear cut, or neat. The process is actually raw and messy. It hurts. It is the unknown.

The process requires faith. And my faith, while real, is not always stellar. Because sometimes I am afraid that what I'll see when I start opening up is really something hideously selfish. Something pitifully faithless. Deceitfully immature.

And sometimes the vulnerability that is necessary for real accountability has nothing to do with faithlessness, but hopefulness. And hope can be something frightening to share. Because hope sometimes seems so precious and beautiful, almost so exquisite that it is fragile. Attempting to express it sometimes turns a delicate orchid into what looks a Play-Doh replica. And hopes, dreams, callings, goals, all have great potential - to soar or to plummet.

So recently as I have considered this in my heart, accountability is not to me something about saying "I failed at this and that," rather it is about growing, attempting, and setting forth, and inviting you in to my process, in faith.

(I'm linking to Steady Mom's 30-minute Blog Challenge. I think I may have slid over the time limit last time, because I kept getting interrupted and had to compensate for it. R-i-g-h-t.)