On retreat recently I started digging into a great book by Andy Crouch called Strong to Weak. In it, he speaks about the concept of “human flourishing” which is basically a synonym for what I refer to as soaring; being “fully alive.” And the summary of his findings and the thesis of the book is this:

“…flourishing comes from being both strong and weak. Flourishing requires us to embrace both authority and vulnerability, both capacity and frailty—even, at least in this broken world, both life and death.” (Crouch, 11)

This idea resonated with me. After all, was not Jesus the exact embodiment of strength and weakness; of authority and vulnerability? All you have to do is look at three days of His life. On one day He was dying, naked on a cross to the jeers of onlookers. Three days later, He was alive again with a new divine body, having broken the chains of sins and death forever. Why would it be any different for us?

At some point I am sure I will get to the topic of authority. But today, I want to focus on a word that I find both terrifying and liberating: vulnerability.

I will never forget a Christmas card we got when I was a kid from a family that had more children than I could count. In the accompanying letter, the mother gave a short update on each of the kids. One was an accomplished gymnast; another was doing well at college; a third had gone to jail….

Wait…What?! Was that really in there?!

Yes, it was. It was jarring. And to me it was beautiful. There was something in me that felt so attracted to this display of unadulterated honesty. I was a child then, but in that moment, I believe a switch was flipped in my soul.

I would spend my life telling the truth, no matter how hard and uncomfortable it might be.

And that is what I have done. I have told the truth—the whole truth! The beautiful truth. The ugly truth. The truth that makes me look good. The truth that most would choose to hide. I am sure I have been guilty of oversharing at times. But for me, if I am going to fall off into one ditch or the other, that is the ditch choose.  Being honest is a high value for me. Some people love it about me. Other people are offended and confused and worry for my emotional safety in the world. For some people the truth is just too much.

But here is why I do it. I do it because I want to flourish; I want to soar. And for me, and perhaps for you too, those hard, unspoken truths are weights and chains, that have the power to hold me down and hold me back. When I am vulnerable, when I speak the darkness out loud, the darkness loses its power.

I will never forget a story my brother told years ago that illustrates this idea so perfectly.

He was visiting his west coast office that was still relatively new to him and needed to use the restroom. So, he went in, and while surprised to see only stalls, just shrugged it off and took care of business. When he came out, his friend was very confused and asked him what he was doing there. He responded: “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?… Am I in the ladies room?”

This was an ugly truth moment. A moment of potential humiliation. If I were him, I would have hung my bright-red-faced head in shame, snuck out and hoped that none of the men who saw me would say anything. And that humiliation probably would have stayed with me for days, maybe weeks or longer.

But that wasn’t my brother. Instead, he walked right out and into the offices of several of his female colleagues to inform them of his unintended transgression. He says he thought that was accountability. I call it vulnerability.

While he may claim otherwise, I am sure that was an uncomfortable moment. But at the same time, the very act of speaking it aloud took away the power of that truth to lead him into a cycle of shame and bondage.

When we are truly vulnerable it takes away the power of the things in our life that could potentially trap us in places of shame, isolation and despair.

This is why I say that vulnerability is a Freedom Tool. And here are some things about vulnerability I have learned over the years….

Vulnerability can be costly. Some people don’t want the truth. For some people, being in relationship with people who challenge the integrity of their “safe life bubble wrap” is threatening. So, some people may retreat in the face of vulnerability. That may mean that we need to be intentional about who gets to hear and receive our deepest truths. It may also mean that sometimes we need to be ok with people being uncomfortable.

Vulnerability can be exhausting. Allowing ourselves to be emotionally naked is not neutral. Some speak of having “vulnerability hangovers.” I think this image is so accurate. Sometimes we indulge in too much alcohol and while at the time it feels invigorating, the next morning we feel the sum total of the effects of all that liquor on our body. The same can be true of acts of vulnerability.

But there is a big difference. While we (at least should) come out of our alcohol hangover saying: “I am never going to do that again. That just wasn’t worth it;” we often emerge from our vulnerability hangover feeling more alive and empowered than ever. Why?

Vulnerability is something that can bring relationships deeper. There is no more sure-fire way of taking a friendship to the next level than by sharing in a more honest manner. It doesn’t have to be telling a near stranger about the worst thing that happened to you as a kid. It could just be admitting how threatening that new environment was to your desire to appear competent. Whatever the level of relationship, an act of vulnerability can deepen it.


Vulnerability is something that makes the scary things less scary. It is like the light in the dark room of a child. As long as we our fears, our traumas, our embarrassments remain hidden, there are scary shadows that haunt us. But the act of vulnerability is like the flicking of the light switch where we come to realize that the monster we thought was in the corner was just a chair with a hat on it. And when the lights go back out, the dark isn’t quite as scary any more.

Vulnerability strengthens us. Vulnerability deepens our relationships. Vulnerability drives away fear. Practicing vulnerability is quite simply one of the most powerful ways to step into freedom.