a transparent life.

Yesterday morning I stood up in front of a group of women and publicly spoke about my journey with depression and anxiety. I spoke about that dark, dark summer last year after we returned from South Asia. I spoke of what it’s like to experience the suffocating weight of depression and a crippling anxiety disorder and my process of needing medical help to bring me to a place of stability. I described what life and ministry look like now on a daily basis living with my illness, how it still affects almost every decision I make.

And I also spoke about God’s personal care and love to me. About the way He’s never left my side — even when I felt the most alone. I spoke about the healing I’ve found, about the way God shows His strength through my weakness. I spoke about how He’s used suffering to root up idols deep in my heart and begin to bring me freedom.

It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

And last weekend, when I was a week away from speaking, I was so paralyzed with fear I couldn’t sleep at night or focus on simple tasks during the day. I was having panic attacks — even with greater doses of medication. I desperately needed help.

I told a friend this and she said, “Why don’t you ask for help?” So even though I typically like to keep my struggles private, I humbled myself and I asked. I texted and emailed several people and said, “God is asking me to do something really hard. I am terrified. Will you pray for me?” I even told a non-Christian how I felt and that I needed help.

And you know what? They helped. They walked with me through the darkness of last week — through the re-living some of my hardest times so I could share the hope I’ve found with others. They prayed for me and texted me and visited me to pray in person and prayed over the phone and even showed up on Sunday morning to support me.

Then I stood there yesterday in fear and trembling and a few tears and told my story in front of a group of ladies who’ve known me for a long time. I laid my heart bare before people I look up to and desperately want to think well of me.

And you know what?  In doing it I felt such an outpouring of love and comfort from them like I’ve almost never known before.

All of these people were the hands and feet and and tears and smiles and hugs of Jesus to me this week.

I’m sharing this story with you to illustrate what God’s been teaching me lately. He’s teaching me how to live a transparent life.

Now before you look at me and say, “Well it’s easy for you to be transparent, Julie — look at your personality. Look at all the friends you have. I could never do that.” Don’t. Because it’s not easy. I don’t think true transparency comes naturally for any human being, whether outgoing or shy, whether surrounded by people or living in isolation.

What comes naturally is to hide. To fiercely guard my heart. To be silent about my struggles. To defend my image and my reputation. To share just enough about my sin for a pat on the back but not enough to really be exposed. What comes naturally is to talk about other people’s problems and sins and overlook my own.

God is showing me that, counterintuitively, it’s those of us in full-time ministry who are most susceptible to hiding. We have so much at stake. So many people look up to us. We believe the lies of Satan that we’re here to minister to others and so we don’t share our own sins and struggles and dark places. We’re needed too much, we’re counted on to be the strong ones.

And so we wither up inside. We don’t live in freedom and joy; we live in fear and isolation.

I’ve spent most of my life hiding out of guilt and shame and insecurity. I’ve felt like I can’t possibly ever measure up. I’ve felt like I work as hard as I can but I’m still failing as a Christian. I’ve lived plenty of my thirty-one years in fear.

But now, by the grace of God, I’m learning a different way.

Yes, that’s right, I’m learning. Transparency is a learned behavior. The Holy Spirit teaches us, and you know what method He most often uses? People who are transparent.

We spend so much of our time looking up to those in ministry, but often the people I’m learning transparency from are not in full-time ministry. They are very simple, average, unassuming people who are so dependent on Jesus that they can risk hurt and ridicule by being honest with others.

This is incredibly humbling.

Can God still use me in ministry if I say “no” to transparency and say “yes” to hiding and guarding my image? Yes, of course He can. All ministry belongs to God and He can use any means He wants to bring people to Himself. He’s that big.

But you know what? He wants so much more for me.

He’s inviting me, beckoning, calling me deeper into this life of freedom. He knows that I will find nothing but fear and loneliness and striving in a life of hiding. Jesus didn’t come for that. He didn’t come for me to be the pastor’s wife who carries the weight of the world on my shoulders and plods forward each day tired and alone, just me and God.

No. He came that I may have life and have it abundantly.

Jesus knew that I didn’t need to minister to women by sharing my story on Sunday morning; He knew that I desperately needed to be ministered to. That even though I’ve come a long way in the last year, my heart always needs people to speak the truth of God’s love and my righteousness in Christ, to tell me they are cheering for me and they love me and that I’m not alone.

Today I challenge you to live a transparent life. Many of you, my friends, already do and you’ve taught me so much.

But if you’re like me, far too often you’re holding out, waiting for someone else to step forward and be transparent first. To put themselves out there. You’re gaging how deeply you’ll share in proportion to how others around you share. If you’re like me, maybe you’ve taken that risk and been burned — maybe you’ve been misunderstood, been gossiped about, been rejected.

Yes, it hurts bad. But I’m learning that there is freedom even in getting burned. Jesus doesn’t call me to live a safe, protected life. Read the Gospels: do you think He knows what it’s like to be misunderstood, to be gossiped about?

He longs to teach me that He’s enough. He’s not just enough when everyone thinks well of me. He’s not just enough when my reputation is un-tarnished and I’m popular and admired and safe. No, He’s enough, period. He’s the only truly safe Person in my whole life. The more safe I feel in Him, the bigger the risks I can take.

This life of honest, humble dependency — not only on God but on the people He’s put in my life — is bringing me more hope and joy than I’ve ever known. It’s giving me more of a freedom to be myself instead of despising myself and striving to be someone better. It’s giving me a sense of participating on a team as apart of God’s bigger story — rather than someone put here to minister to others. It’s giving me peace in the core of my being that says my life is hid with Christ on high and it’s okay if people don’t always think well of me. It’s giving me sweeter and deeper friendships.

It’s giving me rest.

If you pursue a transparent life, you are taking a big risk, yes. But this is the abundant life Jesus offers you. He will use you powerfully in the lives of people around you for His glory. He will be nearer than you ever imagined. I promise you won’t be disappointed.