“Staying vulnerable is a risk we have to take if we want to experience connection.” - Brené Brown
A few weeks ago, I was going through the clutter under my bed to see if there was anything I could get rid of. I stumbled upon receipts, missing bobby pins, and a bag full of fabric scraps. An ordinary stash of unordinary things we all tend to accumulate after a busy week.
In the midst of sorting through it all, I realized something. Something seemingly forgotten in our society today.
But before I get to that...If you're wondering why I have a bag of fabric scraps under my bed, allow me to enlighten you. Potential. These scraps of fabric are frayed and, well, scrappy. But every time I try to throw them away, I just can't do it. I think of the possibilities within every piece. I could sew a headband or patch a pair of jeans or add lace to a dress I bought at a garage sale. They may be broken and a little worn, but each one is nonetheless valuable and capable of adding character to whatever it becomes a part of.
Because the fabric pieces are not hemmed, they are ready to be connected to another without resistance. It is as if this was their purpose all along. Think of a quilt, a blanket composed of various colors and textures of fabric that has somehow been woven together to create a unique and beautiful work of art.
What I realized was this: we are made to be woven. No matter how broken. No matter how frayed we may feel.
Made to be woven. What does this mean? It means we were made for relationships. For sharing memories. For connecting with and learning from one another. And not simply within romantic relationships. I'm talking about all human relationships. About loving our neighbor and avoiding half-hearted investments.
There is so much self-protection and self-preservation in today's world. There is fear of being known, yet we crave it so deeply. There is fear of being loved, for fear that we'll be hurt. Yet, we must take the risk of being hurt to love and be loved by other human beings.
It saddens me that transparency can now be seen as dangerous. It seems as if we have stapled so many exceptions to what it means to have a heart for others, trying our best to remain unchanged and free of pain. You do not have to be on the defense if your intention is to love selflessly. If you are loving simply to be loved in return, you put your heart on the line and are easily broken. Are you loving to love, or because you are aiming to fill a void?
What is important to remember is that God is our ultimate source of love and fulfillment. If you arrange your life in a way that acknowledges Him as merely supplemental, you will undoubtedly find yourself fragile and disappointed. Yet, whether or not our priorities are straight, we all have that longing for human love and connection. That is because He placed that desire within each of us. We were not created for isolation, but rather for community.
I do not mean that we should all wear our hearts on our sleeves to every stranger we meet. I do not mean that we should rant our deepest emotions and personal struggles over our social media accounts. I mean to say, we should be real with one another. Remain authentic.
What's so great about perfection, anyways? I am a recovering perfectionist, and one thing I have learned about perfection is that it acts as people-repellent. Which is pretty ironic, considering the fact that perfectionists try so hard to please people. Also, if it weren't obvious, it is unattainable. Perfection acts like the hem on a piece of fabric. It lets the other fabric pieces know that it's perfectly fine and capable on its own. But deep inside, it is aching to be a part of something greater than itself. It longs to be woven into the quilt.
It may sound tempting to appear totally put-together, and it's okay to strive for excellence, but don't let who you want to be interfere with your ability to be real with those around you. Invite others into your life, frayed edges and all. Wouldn't you rather be loved for who you are than for someone you can never be? Nobody is perfect. But if we were, would we be able to connect? We are human. Humans are flawed. Wouldn't it make sense for us to relate through struggle and vulnerability rather than by trying to be perfect?
We were made to be woven. We were made to be real. Frayed edges and all.
