by Cathy Baker

Upstairs I gaze out the window overlooking the city street, onto the sprawling tree just beyond the concrete boundaries. Her elegant arms stretched wide like a ballerina in the finest Grande pose. 

Its bare limbs, trunk, all things, exposed.  

Vulnerability rarely comes easy. I’m an only child, and for me, it’s always felt more natural to hold things closer to my heart than to my lips. 

Only in recent years have I begun to understand how vulnerability plays such a vital role if my life is to put the gospel on display.

It’s one thing to be transparent, which merely means being upfront and honest. To be vulnerable, one must be willing to lay open the most tender places within, leaving them exposed for the possibility of emotional bruising. After all, the word vulnerable means able to be wounded. 

Photo courtesy of Cheryl Werner

But if I am to reflect the life and love of Christ, how could I not make myself more vulnerable, for Christ is the perfect example?

As Easter approaches, one need only look to the verbiage found in Luke 9:22 to see the vulnerability of Christ: suffer, rejected, and killed. 

He did not hide His heart…nor His love—even to those He knew would nail Him to a cross.

We love because he first loved us. 1 John 4:19

It’s when I gaze out the window that I hear His whisper:

Vulnerability exposes the deepest, most tender places of the heart. It’s costly, I know. But worth every bruising.

Perhaps it’s for this reason I often make my way up the stairs on these winter-turning-to-spring days. Soon, this exquisite display of His whisper will be cloaked in color, no longer visible. 

In life, vulnerabilities can be hidden beneath many “cloaks of color” — isolation, anger, pills, alcohol, broken smiles, and humor, among thousands of others. But…

he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our
iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his
wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5

I will miss the bare branches—but even on the hottest of summer days—His whisper will linger, and I will respond with a whisper of my own: Thank You, Lord.

How has your journey dealing with vulnerability changed since becoming a Christ follower? I’d love for you to take a moment to share. We never know who will be encouraged as a result of our own vulnerability here. Blessings!