The Power of Vulnerability: Finding Hope through Shared Struggles

I cried when I was interviewed on a podcast last week.

I was mortified. I don’t cry in interviews. Ever. I tell my story all the time, but I’m so used to explaining it that I can tell it, even in detail, without getting emotionally involved. But somehow in this conversation, I was fully engaged in my words. At the end, I choked up.

I apologized profusely and I was a little embarrassed. But I realized my slightly uncomfortable emotion made way for a deeper connection and richer conversation.

I’m always surprised at the power of vulnerability. Not just telling our stories but telling them real. Sharing from our hearts and not simply stating emotionless truth. It’s because vulnerability keeps us from giving trite answers and offering clichés. Our hearts don’t speak in clichés, but we use them to mask our feelings, to emotionally distance ourselves, or get someone to quickly move past their pain.

When people say, “just trust God and obey,” their words may be true but they feel cold and unhelpful. But when people say, "I've been there. I felt hopeless and wondered where God was. I’ll tell you what helped me, but I also want to hear your story," we hang on every word. There is something powerful about talking to someone who’s been through something similar, who can show us there’s hope on the other side. Not only that, but we want reassurance that we’re not turning our back on our faith because we’re struggling. We want to know that God will meet us where we are, and that he invites us to wrestle with him. We need to know that even when we’re letting go, God is holding onto us.

The Power of Vulnerability

When I felt desperate, I wanted someone to tell it to me real, to be honest and vulnerable, and not to hyper-spiritualize everything. I'd heard people say, "Just trust God, and it will all be fine." But I had trusted God and it wasn't fine, and I wanted to know where to go from there. I wanted to know what questions people had asked and how they found answers. I wanted to know the struggles and sleepless nights, the questions they screamed out in the dark, and the ways they'd tried and failed.

I had a conversation like that a few nights ago on my back porch when I introduced two friends who shared a common struggle—for one, the pain was an every-moment reality and the other had just come through the worst. They each shared how this trial had impacted everything in their world—their families, their friendships, their relationship with God, and their sense of self. They both expressed profound loneliness, wondering whom to trust with their wounded hearts, the unspoken shame that kept them from others, the sins of pride and self-sufficiency that their suffering had exposed, their intermittent doubts about God's faithfulness, and how God pursued them even when they pushed him away.

I was struck by the unmistakable power of the Holy Spirit and the power of vulnerability that drew us together. I realized we all need to hear stories of how God is present to his people in the midst of their struggle. Not glory stories of unprecedented victory and the power of positive thinking, but real-life accounts of God's power made perfect in our weakness.

The Authenticity in Scripture

The Bible has that kind of authenticity throughout its pages. In it, we see the failure and frailties of people, people like Elijah who boldly proclaimed the word of the Lord, confident and zealous for him, a model of faith and faithfulness. But when he was alone, personally attacked and physically weary, he wanted to give up. He said to the Lord, "It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life…" (1 Kings 19:4).

The Bible gives us real accounts of people who struggled in their trials, begged God to remove their suffering, longed for comfort and encouragement, wondered whether God was even listening, and felt forgotten in their pain. I can relate to every one of those emotions, which the Psalms express so poignantly.

While the words of Scripture offer real and lasting comfort, often God uses other people to help us experience that comfort (2 Cor 1:4). We long for friends who understand what we’re going through and are willing to give us their time. People who are willing to share their experiences and even point us to specific verses when the Bible feels remote and dry. People like my back-porch friends who are willing to vulnerably share their stories. But unfortunately not everyone has people in their lives who are able to do that.  

The Reason for My Podcast

To bridge this gap, I started my podcast series. All my guests are people whose faith I deeply admire and have been willing to share the questions they asked God in their suffering.  Some have experienced deep loss and found God's faithfulness in adjusting to a new normal. Others navigate ongoing challenges, offering practical wisdom and hope for the future. Still others are living daily in relentlessly hard circumstances, yet their joy in the Lord remains evident. None of their stories tie up neatly, but all testify to God's love and faithfulness.

Each week on the podcast, I am reminded that God will hold us fast. Amid destruction, doubt, and despair, he will never let us go. Yet there are moments in many believers' lives when we’ll struggle to believe what we know to be true, like the man who cried out to Jesus, "I believe. Help my unbelief" (Mark 9:24). What helps our unbelief is when others share their discouragement and disappointments and how they wrestled through them. We want to know how others found hope.

At the end of each podcast episode, I ask my guests one practical way they found hope when they were desperate. Paul Tripp said:

“You know, I think the spiritual answer would be in the word of God, but there are times when even that seems hard. I really do believe that it is in being vulnerable so that friends feel welcome to give you hope. I would've never gotten through what I've been through in the last eight years if I hadn't been surrounded by loving, patient, godly friends who spoke hope into my heart when I couldn't find it.”

I’m praying that everyone reading this will have the courage to vulnerably share their stories as well as make time for friends who are struggling. Reach out to someone this week. It takes intentionality and sacrifice, but when you do, I think you’ll be surprised by the power of vulnerability and be moved by the depth of God's faithfulness and love.