When I was a single adult in my 20’s, I was heavily involved in my church. I sought out opportunities to be in leadership roles in the adult single’s group there. I had some very close friendships, but mostly among the rest of the small leadership group. My relationship with much of that community ~ who I was supposed to be serving ~ was pretty superficial.

Then I got pregnant. Still single…..still heavily involved in church and leadership there, but now marred by a sin that I could not hide. Because of my role in the group, I felt it was important to speak to them as a group. Confess if you will. It was terrifying ~ and the result was….unexpected.

Suddenly, there were people in the group who really wanted to talk to me. Not to gossip about my situation. They sought me out to open up to. Initially I was a little confused. Here I am, fallen, a sinner, a lot to deal with myself. How can I be the person others are turning to as they grapple with their own lives? It didn’t take me too long to realize that my vulnerability had made me approachable, human.

I don’t mean to make it sound like I was some amazing superstar before that and folks were in awe of me. Not at all. But I WAS living a lie and basking in an appearance of having it all together. And that appearance was a shield that I probably thought protected me. What it actually did was build walls between me and other members of my community. When I was forced to become vulnerable, new relationships were able to take root. I was walking more closely with my community than ever before.

I hope as you read this, you won’t focus on church hypocrisy or issues of morality. I’m not here to debate my “status” as a sinner. My own spiritual walk is in such a different place now than it was then. None of those things are the reason I wrote this. I know in many social justice spaces, there is pressure to always say and do the right thing. To present your resume of activism and then castigate anyone who comes with questions or ideas not yet fully formed. The LoR community is not that kind of space. It is a community where we will walk, learn and grow together. You do not have to present yourself as perfect here. In fact, it’s better for the health of our relationships if you do not. If we can be humble, vulnerable and teachable, then we can also be compassionate truth speakers who employ kind candor with one another.

If the members walking here are committed to the ethos of this community, then is this really as risky as it feels? I’ve been tentative at times. Taking careful steps is good, but especially in the early days, my steps were SOOO slow and cautious. I thought that if Lace (or Marlise or Claire) needed to engage with me, it would be evidence of some failure on my part. I think I hoped to engage just enough to satisfy my commitment but still fly under the radar and escape too much notice. Which part of that helps build community?

Back to my ‘single and pregnant’ story, my language for what happened then was that I “only really learned about grace once I found myself in need of grace”. I don’t know if that’s 100% true but I do know that becoming vulnerable not only helped others relate to me. It helped me see them with new eyes. I found that so many of my prior judgments just fell away. I started learning how to speak truth that was accompanied by love and grace. Isn’t that what kind candor is? When we walk along side each other here as a community, we make a covenant with one another. To risk together; to manage our slosh while walking together; to employ kind candor and not write one another off. So let’s get down to the dirty details (of our power hoarding, our clenches, our defensiveness) ~ but let’s do it TOGETHER.