I’ve made a conscious effort in the last few weeks to let down my walls and be vulnerable with lots of people in my life. I have always been eager to share frustrations, hopes, and past hurts with my friends. I don’t have a problem talking about personal pain, as long as it’s in the past. I struggle with sharing my current hurts. Because of that, I’m slowly but surely discovering that I’ve missed out on a huge blessing found in friendships and community: having someone to walk through the hard stuff with me NOW.

I shared struggles and fears with two different groups of women last week. I mustered all of my courage and kept sharing even when the tears threatened to steal my words. I don’t know why I’ve hesitated to share in the past. The outpouring of love and support received since sharing is so encouraging.

Handwritten notes, emails, texts, phone calls, specific questions… I am blown away by the support.

It’s true. Vulnerability hastens community.

I reconnected with an old friend this weekend. We bridged the gap created by our 19 year-old selves and became fast friends once more as women in our 30s. There were tears shed, hearts shared, and hours spent catching up on the years we’d let slip by. I’m so thankful for women who challenge me to seek restoration in relationships.

Our discussions last week about authentic community and sharpening friendships… they aren’t just theory or bullet points. I’m witnessing El Roi, the God Who Sees Me, change and grow my fragile confidence through the relationships all around me.

The heartaches have a way of pointing me back to the tender love of our God. And for that, I will always be thankful.

“And the God I’ve come to know by sheer grace, the Jesus I met in the grounds of my own self, has furiously loved me regardless of my state- grace or disgrace.  And why?  For His love is never, never, never based on our performance, never conditioned by our moods- of elation or depression.  The furious love of God knows no shadow of alteration or change.  It is reliable.  And always tender.” – Brennan Manning

Following,
Ginger