a lesson on bravery, not brevity

Today, I want to talk about the word BRAVE. When I think of this word I imagine super-heroes and people defying all odds. It seems such a huge word to try and fill. If this were a word association game and you said "brave", I would respond with "soldier", "martyr" or "high school teacher". At least, this is what I would have said if I hadn't really tried to wrap my brain around the word. And so it was with the word "brave".

In recent years I have seen bravery in the most amazing places. When my best friend chose to carry her unborn child even when the odds weren't good, when my friends said goodbye to their husbands as they were deployed yet again, when a friends mother fought her cancer in unconventional ways, when my brother-in-law chased some kids down the street to film a drug deal, when my friend quit her job on faith that she would get another one, when another friend said yes to move to Singapore to do God's work, when my son jumps through the air knowing that someone will surely catch him, and when my dad left a good job to start his own company from scratch. These are just a few examples and there are so many more. To me, bravery is stepping out into the world of possibility without the safety net of knowledge. It is letting go and diving in without the slightest idea of how things are going to turn out and just facing what lies ahead.


I will admit that I am not really very brave. I am fairly trusting, which is a somewhat bravery of its own, but not risky. In fact, I tease a friend of mine about living in a box, but my life is as cardboard as it comes. Except for one area, words. Words are my weapon of choice. I feel most confident when I can talk my way through something or when I am afforded the opportunity to explain myself. Maybe this is why I hold honesty in such high regard. And not just honesty, but vulnerable honesty. This is the most admirable thing to me - when someone speaks out of love or conviction not knowing what the response might be.

This week I rolled some dice of my own and I spoke truth with a friend that I truly respect. I spent days perfecting the speech in my head, because I wanted it to be the exact representation of my heart and I wanted it to be genuine and to the point. It was a gamble for me, and an uneasy time of questioning and doubting. And in the end, it did not happen the way I thought it would happen or go the way I thought it would go - but it happened all the same.

Before I finish that story I want to share this side note, in my marriage I endured moments of great heartache and great joy. And when that relationship ended I was wounded and broken. I felt I had lost my voice and my spark - I was a diluted version of myself. And I decided it was better to hide away and heal. I went to my Sunday school class but I didn't engage and I refused to open up because I was afraid to let people in. I was afraid to let them see how hurt and alone I was and I didn't want them to see the scars I was carrying from another life and another person I was letting go of. I was afraid that I would be seen as damaged goods. But with great care, I opened those doors and let the life back in and slowly I welcomed vulnerability. And with this came friendships. I let people into my life again and I allowed them to see the good, and eventually the bad. And when that happened, I found that I had things to offer again. I found that I had value and worth. It was nice to be seen again. And through this process I let people in to my life that truly started to mean something to me.

Back to the story, I felt like I needed to tell one of these people something that was important to me and that in doing so I would risk the possibility that it would change things. But it needed to be said. So, I said it, without sugar coating it. And it didn't go the way I had hoped or planned. But in a way it was better. I took a risk and spoke my heart. And I meant every word. While I can not and will not go into any more details I want to say that this was a huge step for me. If anything I was able to honestly share my thoughts and feelings without fear of rejection or repercussion. This was possible because I believed that the act of saying it and having it said were more important than the response to it. Of course, not hearing the words you want to hear is always hard. Not being completely accepted or received is not preferred. While I had no expectations, I did have hopes for how the conversation would go and all of them ended with us both being on the same page. This did not happen. And I fight the impulse to take this personally. This person also spoke the truth back to me and some of it was hard to hear. There are areas in my heart that haven't fully healed and places that are still raw. I kill myself to protect these soft places and set up many traps and defense mechanisms to keep them safe. And this person spoke realities that touched at the core of some of those issues and made me truly face the things I fear. While my pride is wounded, my friendship is not. It was my own experiment in bravery. I won't say that it was a failure, because I did what I intended to do. And being able to open up and let someone new in to see the vulnerable side of me was refreshing. Just the fact that I was able to do that has made all the difference.

- if you are reading this (even though I told you not to) please know that it is an honor to share truths with you, if nothing else.