I grew up in what I referred to as a very private household. There were was no real mystery to our family. We just didn’t really speak about our problems as openly as other people. Not our big problems, not our small problems - none of them. We didn’t really speak about anything as openly as other people. We were not inclined to even show our feelings in certain situations. The image we projected was more than wholesome; it sometimes bordered on perfection.
Another formative aspect of my upbringing had to do with my perception of mistakes. I don’t suppose anyone likes to make them, but I especially did not care to. I wanted to be my best, and in many cases, I wanted to be the best. I wanted to be like my parents, and for the longest time, I never saw them make mistakes. I never heard them speak of any mistakes in their history. They seemed to be entirely perfect, and I didn’t know how to talk about mistakes with perfect people. Their standards for us were high, and the results from that made me proud, but keeping up with those standards was not always easy.
My parents often reminded us that our actions behind closed doors should be even better than they appeared before watching eyes. This is a great aspiration, but also a tall order, especially when you are young. This part of my experience shaped me into sort of an odd perfectionist, and later in life, I realized that it made it difficult for me to get close to people.
After leaving college, I was seeking community with like-minded people in my same stage of life. A series of fortuitous events lead me to the place that is now my home church. With slightly more determination than reservation, I walked into a young adult Bible study and stated in no uncertain terms what it was that I was looking for. That very night God used people as imperfect as I am to invite me into community.
I did more than accept the invitation. For the first time (maybe ever) I decided to dive all the way in. I said yes to things. I made time for things. I showed up like I never have before, and I could feel myself slowly but surely becoming a part of the community. Still, I had yet to feel completely at home in this community. All the while, a certain theme kept coming up in teachings and discussions - this idea of being known. I heard it said that in order to be fully loved you had to be fully known and that in order to be known you had to be vulnerable and transparent. It was a simple and terrifying idea, but it made sense. Real love remains when I am at my very worst, and if I never let anyone see all of who I am, I could never really be known or loved. So how could I let myself be known?
I have found that conversation is a good place to start. The right kind of conversation can make two strangers instant friends. My friendship with one of my dearest friends now began on a weeknight at a Starbucks. We had agreed to meet for coffee, as millennials do, and I figured that we might learn a bit more about each other and see where things went from there. I did not have very high expectations, because these kinds of meetings tend to be a little like first dates or job interviews, where you only discuss a certain set of topics and based on the results, you determine whether you would like to meet again, and to what end. However, that night we went right past the formalities, and straight into the mess. I so admired her for her willingness to be so open with me so immediately. Vulnerability often breeds vulnerability, but someone has to be brave enough to initiate that. Her transparency with me made me feel comfortable enough to open up to her, and that was the catalyst for our friendship.
I started to see that God was placing a few such people in my life - people who were willing to lay it all out there and let me do the same. Beyond the conversation, in the time we spent together, I found people who left room for me to be comfortable enough to be entirely myself. I am a rather particular person with a number of quirks, and pet peeves. I like things to be done a certain way. I have high expectations and strong opinions. I’m kind of a germaphobe. I send my food back at restaurants if the order is wrong. I overthink most things. There is a handful of people in the world who see all these parts of me and I know that they love me just the same. I am so grateful for that.
The fact of the matter is that no one is perfect. We all come with quirks and baggage. The people that you can sit down and unpack it with while being your most authentic self, those people become your community, and in a deeper sense, your family. Are you looking for someone to help shoulder your burden? You’ll have to share it first. Do you want someone to walk alongside you? Make room for them. Do you want to be loved? Let yourself be known. It is surprisingly freeing.
It blows my mind that God allows us to be flesh and blood manifestations of his love for us to one another. It is equally astounding to think that my relationship with God is intended to be this way as well. I am learning that in order to experience God’s love to the fullest extent, I must be transparent with Him, and continue seeking to know Him. The primary difference in this is that between me and God, only one of us has any mess to bring (and it isn’t God). It’s hard to let Him into the messy parts of my life knowing that He is entirely perfect. The funny thing is that I know that there is nothing that He doesn’t already know. When I consider His perfection and His unconditional love for me in spite of my own imperfection, I am faced with the measure of His love for me and it is so much more than I can fathom.
I am a work in progress, and I am still learning how to be known and loved more fully each day, but it is so worth it.