“To Love is to be Vulnerable”

I remember sitting in my dorm room, mad at God, because he called me to the vocation of marriage and here I was (a sophomore in college) not having met my husband. (I was CLEARLY past the age of hope to find love… *please note the sarcasm*).

Sarcasm aside, I had my fair share of heartache, tears, mistakes, wounds, and loneliness. I remember writing in my journal about my heart and telling God I wanted to give him my heart. Don’t be fooled, though. This was not the kind of “give God your heart” that he actually asks for. You know… to love him, to serve him, to pray to him, to rely on him, to trust in him, the list goes on. Honestly, maybe I thought it was at the time. I thought I was doing something selfless and perhaps romantically heroic by giving God my heart. But, I found that journal entry a while ago. I read it. And I felt sorry for the young college girl who wrote it.

As I read through it, it didn’t seem like a genuine “giving” of one’s heart. It read as if I was throwing my heart at God… almost in a way to say, “Here! You take it! I don’t want it anymore!” Like all the hurt and loneliness left me utterly hopeless that God would ever answer my prayers. So, I decided to throw it away… lock it away “for God” (*insert air quotes*). In this heartbreaking journal entry, I saw the truth of the two years that followed. As I read, I could visibly see the wall that I erected around my heart. For the next two years I refused to date or to let anyone remotely get to know me. I became undeniably independent. The only person who truly knew me was God.

In this entry, I wrote, “My heart is locked away in a box buried underground in an abandoned cave.” I guess this was my version of “giving my heart” to God…??? I remember reading a passage from CS Lewis that changed everything, though. It shocked my heart back to life… or I should say God did. The passage said:

To love at all is to be vulnerable… Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it up carefully… wrap it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable… To love is to be vulnerable.

I believe this excerpt was placed in front of me by God. I had done exactly this. I wanted to keep my heart safe so I locked it away. I loved the image of a coffin… because that’s what it was. I was allowing my heart to grow impenetrable, which, according to CS Lewis, meant irredeemable.

Last summer a group of Project Timothy missionaries and I led a girl’s retreat. We led the ladies in a reflection on the Sacred Heart of Jesus and then invited them to imagine their own hearts. What are the beauties; the wounds; the ways God has transformed them? We then all took to our artistic abilities and painted or drew our imagined hearts. I wanted to share all of this because the above-mentioned time in my life was the heart that I pictured and felt compelled to draw.

I had locked my heart away. I cut off its air and let it blacken. I let the lies the devil told me about myself—that I was ugly, damaged, used, dark, broken, wounded—take hold of this dying heart. But, Christ, showing me his own wounds, unlocked this hardened heart and brought to me a new one. He brought a child’s heart. “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt. 18:3). This bright pink heart held nothing except the truth about who I was as his daughter; beloved, pure, cherished, born again. My name, Kara Renee, actually means exactly this! This heart, so simple and small, was given to me to nourish and let grow into a heart that desired so deeply the love of God! To trust as a child trusts.

We all hold on to wounds. Perhaps many of us retract into those wounds and lies and let them control how we interact with the world, with others, or worse… our relationship with God. But I wanted to share this because God is the transforming power. Christ carries our wounds, he speaks truth into the lies we allow ourselves to believe, and he renews us in all things! I want to encourage anyone struggling with wounds, God’s call in their vocation, loneliness, trust, love, or much more to turn those things over to God. Trust that through him, even in the midst of hurt, we are being healed.

Friday the 13th

Middle school is hard. I’ve never heard a single person express any desire to relive their middle school days. That is certainly true for me. Yet, recently, I found myself reflecting on one of my own experiences in middle school.

Friday the 13th. I don’t recall the actual date, or really, even the year; I just remember that it was a Friday the 13th. My school was taking a field trip. For whatever reason, my parents did not sign the necessary permission slip. This meant I had to stay behind. This day, I was not alone. The boy who seemed to have a mission to make my life a hell on earth, also had to stay behind. His parents didn’t sign his permission slip either. As my day began – and by “day” I mean a seven-and-a-half-hour study hall – fear and worry set in. I was sure that this boy didn’t really even know my name. If he did, he certainly didn’t seem to care. He was a cruel artist of vulgarity and a master tradesman when it came to four letter words and insults. It is likely that he could bring the most grizzled of men to tears. I can still hear the names he called me ringing in my ears all these years later.

What followed was the most unexpectedly peaceful day I remember in my time served… er… eh… my time in middle school. Bully is not a strong enough word for my experience with this young man prior to that day. But, this day, alone, just the two of us, in the same circumstances, we found peace and civility. He called me by my name throughout the day. We joked about our unfortunate lot. We found joy during what really was painfully boring. There was no mocking. No poking fun. No name calling. We ate lunch together. Peacefully. I am sure we discussed the episode of the Simpsons that was on the night before. It was a wonderful day. So impactful was this day that I still smile whenever someone issues a superstitious warning about Friday the 13th. “Really? For me, it has always been an unusually lucky and blessed day.”

In John 13:35, Jesus reminds us of something critically important, “The world will know you are my disciples by your love.” In Matthew 5:44, he also issues us a most difficult challenge, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…” That is a hard one. I didn’t love this young man. I would dare say I nearly hated him for the way he treated me every day. Those feelings often turned into fear and dread. Yet, this day, I was met with a warm and respectful person… who seemed to be entirely different. In Matthew 5:45-48, Jesus goes even further: “If you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you salute only your brethren, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

What I see in this experience are the obstacles and walls we put up that keep us from loving our neighbors as we should. Perhaps it was due to there being no one to crave attention from, no one to feel the need to impress, no one to perform for, and no one to criticize him, he was able to see me as the human being I am, and in that sense, love me as he ought. For my part, when I was able to forgive in that moment, put down my guard and see him also as a human being, and not some monstrous instrument for my torture, I, too, was able to see his own dignity, and love him in that way. Without all those walls we allowed the world to build between us, we could be friends.

I think there is a valuable lesson in this. Our call to extend love, mercy and forgiveness toward others is not somehow contingent upon circumstances we deem favorable. There is enough hate and division in the world. What it needs most is love; the love of Christ working in and through us. Inspiring our thoughts, animating our actions, transforming hearts, helping us to become who we are meant to be, setting the world on fire with that same love.

Who in your life do you find it difficult to love? How might God be calling you to love them despite the circumstances?