We use them all the time - in text messages, phone calls, face to face conversations, and here on the Internet. They are both improper and proper, funny and serious, embraced and rejected. How many words go unnoticed, uncared for, and misunderstood? How many others are celebrated, shared, and discussed at length?

In this tech savvy world, our words become ourselves and we become our words.
What happens when we are rejected? Ignored? Do we begin to hinge our self-worth on the reactions of other people? How does that change how we interact with others? Do we change out of fear or are we emboldened to say more? What happens to our faith?

For me, sharing my words is both a tango and a bullfight. In one hand, there is a beautiful partnership between what I say and write. But then, there are times where I find myself hiding behind a red flag only to welcome the advances of an approaching bull.

I think for some of us, hiding just comes more naturally.
Why use our words, when others could say it for us?
It's also easier.
Less complicated.

Going viral isn't always a good thing.

For the longest time, I have hid behind passivity. I have hid behind my attempts to make peace and not create strife. I have hid behind excuses and justifications.

Mostly, I have hid in fear.

I struggle with self-doubt
and comparison
and not feeling worthy.
I battle laziness
and apathy.

Those words of mine? They get stuck in my throat or I choke them back down. I over-analyze the weightiness of them.Will they mean anything to anyone?

Sometimes I might dress them up and accessorize them with an exaggerated faith, hoping that they might be received better.
Listened to.

How many times have we recreated ourselves in the attempts to be embraced by others? I think we have got it all wrong. Or at least, I do.

If we take our words and make them raw and unadulterated - focusing in on the authenticity our stories offer - maybe there would be less bullfights and more tangos. We get to enter into a partnership that requires the listener to be just as genuine as us. By taking the first step of genuineness, we create a new dance our partner can't but help follow along.

Regardless, there will be the same amount of open wounds. This time not because of a battle but because of the healing taking place.

To heal, we first must open ourselves right up.

Intuitively, it doesn't make sense that pain could lead to wholeness.
Or that vulnerability indicates strength.

The perfect picture of this is in Christ himself.
By His PAIN we were HEALED.
Through our vulnerability we access His strength.
Because of His open wound, we cannot be wounded.

You know that red flag in the bull pen? That's Christ. His blood, shed for me and for you.
With Him, I can disregard all the fear. I no longer have to dress myself in what might appear to be better or more accepted. Instead, Christ wraps Himself around me.

Embraced by Him, we can share ourselves and in turn, our words, without fear.