“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging,  joy, courage, empathy and creativity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose, vulnerability is the path.” – Brene Brown (Daring Greatly)

For nearly three years, I’ve been part of a men’s group who meets on Tuesday nights. I could be neurotic (could be??), but the greater truth is, if I didn’t send a reminder text/email out the five other guys EVERY MONDAY of our 6:30 gathering tomorrow night, I’m willing to bet money I don’t have that the group straight-up wouldn’t meet.

Some would forget.

Some would think about it for a second, d0 a mental (or maybe physical) shoulder-shrug and continue getting lost down a rabbit trail of YouTube vids.

Some would fall into a psychophysical paralysis, unsure what to do in this situation, leading them to spend no less than 15 minutes staring at a nail hole in the wall and not moving.

Of course, I assume all of this, because these are things I have done historically in various circumstances. But not when it comes to this Tuesday night group. I tackle the administrative reins because it’s important that we make a meeting happen as weekly as possible. And everyone in the group knows it’s important, too. It’s just…hard to send meeting-organizing text messages. …I suppose.

What’s intriguing about this group of six dudes is this:

– 3 of us are over 35

– 5 of us have children

– 4 of us have children under the age of 4

– 2 of us are raising teenagers

– 5 of us are married

– 4 of us have been married for less than 7 years

– 3 of us are divorced

– 3 of us come from broken homes

– 4 of us have experienced infidelity in our marriages

– 4 of us have experienced months+ long seasons of joblessness

– 2 of us are enjoying our current career path

We attend three different churches.

We are able to identify in each other a pretty great skill that has little or nothing to do with their current line of work. One guy works at an airport, but would love to run his own bakery someday. Another works for an IT firm, but is a semi-pro photographer quickly en route to becoming totally pro, and is already dealing with a high demand for his business. Another is a great filmmaker and actor who soon plans to drop his job teaching English to Middle Eastern students at a local community college and move with his wife to NYC to become a sitcom star.

Noticeably, there are lots of overlaps in parts our stories but each one has twists/turns and a destination that is uniquely ours. We share our fears and dreams. Our mistakes and accolades. We’re working on being confrontational, but that’s tough, because no one likes to be seen as a jerk, even when a confrontation would be the most loving action. It takes a lot of trust to confront someone you love.

Typically, guys don’t like to be vulnerable. Or, really, even know how to be. The six of us are still trying to figure that out too; but after a few years together, we’re all growing more comfortable–and capable–sharing what’s really going on in our respective worlds. That kind of development requires time and trust–neither of which can be forced, as we all know. There are still moments when we’re tempted to do things that minimize our mess/sin and deflect our need for true relationship (and the gospel of God’s grace), like:

• Fake
• Defend
• Hide
• Blame-shift
• Downplay
• Exaggerate

All in a pretty depressing effort to look better to each other and/or feel better about ourselves. Sometimes we actually do give into the temptation–at least I do–but we each know better that doing so ultimately will never amount to a positive net sum. Sharing our stories without imparting the full truth is not only (of course) lying, it’s settling on being…boring, and wasting time.

I’ve found the experience of being known–even partly known, with the commitment to make myself as fully transparent as possible over time (at least within the confines of safe people) — and loved anyway, is transcendental. To become the person I want to be, I have to make choices to fully know myself. In order to fully know myself, I need to know (and accept) who Christ says I am. When I know who I am, I can make myself adequately known to those around me. And if they’re taking the same steps, I can know them.

One of life’s greatest satisfactions is to live it out with people choosing to take those steps, avoiding the natural tendency to wander around solo, and instead walk down the same path of clarity and purpose together.