Put the Fig Leaf Down: The Courage to Be Seen — Part One

What if there’s more of you underneath the version everyone knows? 🌿

A fig leaf. A question in the Garden. And one realization I didn’t see coming.

In Part One of The Courage to Be Seen, we’re looking at the things we hide behind, the versions of ourselves we learned to become, and one surprisingly difficult question:

“Where are you?”

We’re not fixing anything yet. We’re just noticing what might be hiding in plain sight.

Because before we can talk about who gets to see the real us in Part Two...

we may need to find her first. ❤️

Transcript

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Welcome To The Garden

SPEAKER_01 0:00

Welcome to It's a Single Mom Thing. The show for Single Moms by Single Moms. This is Sherry, your host, and I am happy you are here today. It's a single mom thing, and not the simple thing that stops you. It's your girl Sherry with Podcast It's a Single Mom Thing. So ladies, I need you to use your imagination with me for a minute in this episode, okay? So we're gonna go to the Garden of Eden. Paradise. Think about it. No bills, no car line, no laundry, no group text asking, well, what's for dinner? No child standing there three inches from your face at 614 in the morning asking, Mom, where's the charger? And it's well the charger is exactly where you told them it was uh yesterday. Ladies, listen, Eve didn't even have to wear spanks at some paradise up in here. I mean this woman was living the dream. And then one piece of fruit, mm, just one, and suddenly Adam and Eve are hiding among the trees from the creator of the universe wearing some leaves. Uh yes, leaves. Can we just sit with this visual for a second? I'm just saying. Because somewhere in the garden, Adam is apparently thinking, uh, wait, don't don't move Eve. Uh uh I I don't think he can see us. Sir, he made the trees. And then Eve is over there trying to make an outfit out of foliage like she's on Project Runway Eden. Adam, does this fig leaf make me look guilty? Girl, the fig leaf is the least of your problems. And meanwhile, God is walking through the garden asking, Where are you? Now, I don't know about you, but growing up I always read that part very seriously. And listen, it is serious. But now that I'm just a little bit older, I also think y'all really thought you were hiding from God. I mean the one who created light, the one who separated land from water, you know, the one who literally made you. Mm-hmm. That one. And your plan was foliage? Bless it. But before we laugh too hard at Adam and Eve, can I tell you something? Listen, y'all, we've gotten considerably better at making some fig leaves. Ours just don't grow on trees. Ours, well, they sound like, oh, I'm fine. That's the story of my life. I've got this. It doesn't bother me. I don't need anybody whatever. That's just how I am. And my personal favorite, oh, I'm good. I'm good. Oh girl, I'm so good. We can, I am good or I'm good our way through an entire emotional collapse. Car won't start. Oh, I'm good. Bank account looking like it needs prayer and possibly a resurrection. Oh, oh, I'm good. I'm good. Somebody just hurt us so deeply that we're crying in the Target parking lot with a Starbucks cup between our knees. Friends, text, how are you? And what do we type? Oh, I'm good. Smiley face emoji. Because apparently, if you're going to emotionally lie, you should at least punctuate it cheerfully.

The Modern Fig Leaf "I’m Good"

SPEAKER_01 3:35

I'm just saying because listen, I know I'm speaking some truth here because here's where today's conversation gets a little uncomfortable, and we are going to get uncomfortable. Because lately, I don't know about you, but I have been asking myself a question I didn't particularly want to answer. What if I'm good isn't strength? What if sometimes it's a fig leaf? And you're like, what the heck are you talking about, girl Sherry? And that question, it didn't come from a book, it didn't come from a podcast, it came out of one of the most painful seasons of my own life. Something happened in my family that hurt me deeply. And listen, I had a choice. I could use that pain to build another layer of protection. And believe me, girlfriends, I already knew how to do that. I am a master wall builder. Or I could, I could let God use it to uncover something. And listen, somewhere in that process, I began realizing something about myself that was difficult to admit. So yeah, why don't I just admit it with y'all, right? People knew me. Of course they knew me. I mean, this is your girl Sherry. I'm outgoing, I'm transparent, I talk for a living. Living, listen to me. For goodness sake. I share stories. I laugh at myself. I tell you when I've screwed something up, I would have told you I was a pretty open person. Except people only knew. The Sherry, I was willing to let them know. And then came the part that really got me. So did I. I spent years becoming very good at being the woman I needed to be. You know, strong, capable, independent, funny, keep moving, figure it out, handle it, and none of those things. Now listen, they weren't fake. I mean, that's important to know. I wasn't pretending to be somebody I wasn't. However, and there's a however. I had become very selective about which pieces of me were allowed out from behind the covering. And when you've done that long enough, let me tell you something. You can become so practiced at presenting the protected version of yourself that eventually you don't know where the protection ends and you begin. And girlfriend, listen, that's when the fig leaf stops being funny. So today, check it. Listen, I am not asking you to rip yours off. Okay. Good gravy. No. Please keep your emotional clothes on. We have boundaries around here. I mean, am I right? I'm just asking you though. I'm asking you to do something that may require even a little more courage. And that's notice it. Notice what are you hiding behind? And is the woman everybody knows is that really you? Or is she the woman you've learned you needed to become? Because, listen, check it, there comes a point when protecting yourself, girl, costs more than vulnerability does. And that's where your girl Sherry is going today. So, yes, you need to grab yourself probably a large latte. Definitely wear your comfy pants. And girlfriend, maybe don't get too attached to that fig leaf. I'm just saying. So let's start

Hiding In Plain Sight

SPEAKER_01 7:09

it off. I'm gonna ask you this question: what are you hiding behind? So, listen, somewhere between Adam and Eve's hiding place in our modern day version of I'm good, you may already be thinking, oh my gravy, well, that's my word. You may not be thinking that one, but you can borrow it. You may be thinking, oh my gravy, I have a fig leaf. Well, welcome to the garden, girlfriend. And before you start beating yourself up, or worse, you decide you're going to become vulnerable with everybody by Tuesday. Let me tell you, don't. Because here's something I'm beginning to understand. And now you know I always share what I'm learning. And here's what I'm learning to understand. Our coverings, they didn't appear for no reason. Something happened. Somebody left. Somebody hurt you. Somebody betrayed your trust. Maybe, maybe just maybe you told the truth once and wished you hadn't. I know that's happened to me. And then maybe you needed someone and they weren't there. Oof, that's a tough one. Or how about this? Maybe you learned very early that being strong got you praised while being needy got you disappointed. Or let's try this one. Maybe life simply handed you circumstances where there wasn't anybody else coming to handle it. So you did. And you got really, really, really good at it. Which brings us to the first question I want us to sit with today. What are you hiding behind? Now, here's what makes this tricky. If I asked you, are you hiding? Most of us would say, Well, no. Because hiding sounds like you're curled up underneath your comforter with the blinds closed and your phone on. Do not disturb. And some days, girlfriend, listen, that actually sounds quite delightful, right? But uh-uh, that's not what I'm talking about here. That's not the kind of hiding I'm talking about. I'm talking about hiding in plain sight. Like you show up, you go to work, you take care of your kids, you serve at church, you answer the text, you make people laugh, you remember everybody's birthday, you solve problems, you get things done, and everybody around you thinks, ooh, that girl, she is strong. Meanwhile, check it. There's an entire part of you quietly whispering, please don't look over here. Kind of like what I like to think of the iceberg. The major part of the iceberg is actually below the surface, not what you see on top. And here's where this has gotten personal for me. Now, listen, for a long time I would have told you that I'm vulnerable. I mean, I am a communicator, I share my life for a living, I tell stories about things I've walked through. I laugh at myself like all the time. And I can tell you about my mistakes, I can even talk about painful things, but I'm still learning something. Talking about yourself isn't necessarily the same as allowing yourself to be seen. Ooh, that's a whole thing right there. Because you can tell somebody a whole lot about yourself and still never give them access to you. Like you can tell the story after you processed it, after you prayed about it, after you found the lesson, after you wrapped it up, put a bow on it, and figured out the punchline. That's very different though, my friend, from saying, Yeah, I'm scared. That hurt me. That really hurt me. I don't know what to do. I need you. I was wrong. Or maybe, or maybe one of the hardest. Ooh, this is a tough one. Okay, I'm gonna say it. I care more than I'm comfortable admitting. Because now we're not going to tell a story. Ooh, we are being seen, ladies and girlfriend. There is a difference. So check

When Strength Turns Into Armor

SPEAKER_01 11:16

it. I started looking at some of the things we commonly call personality traits, and I started wondering, could some of these actually be fig leaves? Now, what I mean by that, okay, I'm gonna explain myself. I'm talking about, let's say, independence, for example. Now, listen to, I love being independent. I do. There is something incredibly empowering about knowing you can take care of yourself, especially as a single mom. I mean, you have figured some stuff out, am I right? You can stretch a dollar, you can kill a bug, assemble furniture with three leftover screws, and decide IKEA clearly gave you some extras. You could get a kid to school, yourself to work, dinner on the table, and answer an email from the school that begins with just a friendly reminder. Which never is friendly, by the way, right? We are capable women. And that capability, it is real. But there is a difference between I can do this and I have to do this alone. Ooh, you feel the difference. Because there's a difference between independence that says I know I'm capable, and self-protection that says I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever put myself in a position where I have to depend on somebody again. One is strength, the other, that may be a fig leaf. That's what I'm talking about. And then there's humor. And listen, listen, oh, I love funny. You should know that by now. Sometimes laughter is exactly what gets us through some thing, hard things, right? But listen, humor can also become a really cute fig leaf. You make the joke before anybody can ask the second question. You make everybody else laugh so nobody notices you are hurting. You turn something painful into a great story. Everybody laughs, you laugh. Conversation moves on, and nobody ever asks, but really, how are you? And girlfriend, I know this one because humor is one of my fig leaves. I am just saying. Now, don't misunderstand me. Most of the time I'm funny because I genuinely like and think life is funny. I like to laugh, I like making other people laugh, and sometimes I just can't help myself. If there's a punchline sitting there unattended, I am probably going to pick it up. But, there's a big butt. Mm-hmm. I'm beginning to recognize that there are other times when I turn up the funny just a little bit because I'm nervous or uncomfortable, or because the attention has gotten a little too close to something I do not really want people looking at. So I make you laugh. And while you're laughing, mm-hmm, I get to move the spotlight. Spotlight, mm-hmm. I'm moving it, and lately I have been trying something different, which is crazy. Feels crazy. It's not crazy though. I should use a different word. What am I doing? Well, I am learning to cry in front of people. I know, right? Actually, let's change that. People that have witnessed this, it's not just a cry, it is a full-on weep. You know, the kind I'm talking about. Not the pretty little Hallmark tear. No, no, no, no, no. I'm talking puppy eyes, red nose, snot coming out of my nose, hair doing whatever it has decided to do. The whole situation. And do you know how how uncomfortable that has been for me? Sometimes I'm wondering, oh my goodness, I've had so much snot coming out of my nose. Do I have any bats in my caves that are being exposed? Just saying. And I'm talking uncomfortable, to not immediately, this is how uncomfortable it has been, to not immediately feel like I have to pull myself together in that moment. To not have to make the joke, to not say, oh, I'm fine. To actually let somebody see that I am not okay today. I do hurt and I need some help. I mean, I've started sharing prayer requests in groups even with people I don't even know very well. And sometimes, check this, and sometimes there's a little voice inside me going, uh, Sherry, uh, what are you doing? These people don't even know you. Exactly. And yet, I'm learning to say, I need prayer. I'm learning to let someone else carry something with me instead of always being the one helping carrying everybody else's. I'm also learning that sometimes I need to be seen. And what do I mean by that? I need seen before I pull myself together for presentation. And maybe, and maybe especially then, before I process it, before I found the lesson, before I can explain what God is doing, before I turn the pain into a testimony. Just simply, this hurts. And you know, I'm discovering something I wish I had understood a long time ago. So I'm gonna share it with you. And that's being vulnerable doesn't make me less strong. Actually, it means I'm finally strong enough to stop performing strength when strength isn't what I need. Sometimes, sometimes I just need prayer. Sometimes, you know, I need some help. Sometimes I simply just need to be seen. Not fixed, not rescued, not given three Bible verses and a podcast recommendation. I'm just talking, I need to be seen. And maybe that's part of putting the fig leaf down, not standing emotionally naked in front of everybody. So we're going to talk about that next week because some people absolutely do not need backstage passes to your life. But allowing ourselves to have a few places where we can say, yo, this is me today. No punchline, no polish, no I'm good, just straight up me. Because check it, there is a difference between being strong enough to survive something and being courageous enough to let someone see that surviving it actually hurt. And maybe your fig leaf isn't humor. Maybe it's busyness. Maybe if you keep moving, you don't have to feel. Maybe it's control. If it can't anticipate every possible outcome, maybe nothing can catch you off guard again. Or maybe it's perfectionism. If you never mess up, nobody gets the opportunity to reject you. Or maybe it's being the helper. Ooh, this one, listen. Oh, the helper, you know, everybody else's problem. Everybody calls you, everybody comes to you. You're the prayer warrior, the advice giver, the casserole bringer, the fixer, the dependent dependable one. And those are beautiful things. I am not gonna lie. But sometimes being needed by everybody is very, well, it's a very convenient way of making sure you never have to need anybody. Ooh, I know that hurts somebody. So here's what I'm discovering. And I hope you now are too. You see, I have found that the things we hide behind, well, they're not always bad things. And I'm not here, listen, I am not here putting anyone down. I'm preaching to a choir here. Because sometimes, listen, I am learning that they actually are some of the best qualities, our best qualities like strength, competence, humor, independence, service, achievement, faith, even optimism. So the question isn't, is this quality good or bad? Maybe the question that we should be asking is, what am I using it for? Am I using my strength to move through life or to make sure nobody ever sees me weak? Am I using humor to bring joy or to redirect attention when somebody gets too close to me? Am I using boundaries to protect what's valuable or walls to make sure nobody can reach it? Or am I serving because I genuinely love people, or because being the giver feels much safer than being the one who needs to receive? And here's a big one. Am I saying God's got me because I genuinely trust him? Or because somewhere along the way I decided people never will. Because sometimes we can even make our faith a little fig leaf. Yo, and that's uncomfortable to say, but I do think it's worth asking. Not because our faith isn't real, but because God never asked us to use him as an excuse to avoid the vulnerability of relationship. I mean, he did create us for relationship, right? With him and with each other. So, no, girlfriend, today we're not ripping anything away, but we are simply going to be walking through our own little garden and asking, what have I been hiding behind? And then maybe even more importantly, we ask the question, When did I decide I needed it? Because you're a fig leaf, ladies,

Who You Had To Become

SPEAKER_01 21:20

it may tell you what you're hiding, but the story behind it, now that may tell you what you're protecting. So who did you have to become? So if the last question was, what am I hiding behind? Maybe the next question is a little harder. Who did I have to become? Because here's what I don't want us to do. I don't want you listening to this podcast, suddenly diagnosing every strong quality you have as something as a giant emotional problem. Girlfriend, no, we are not doing that today. Your strength is not the villain, your independence is not the villain, your ability to handle hard things is not the villain. In fact, some of those qualities may be exactly what got you here. Those are seasons when you needed that woman. The woman who could get up after crying half the night and make breakfast, the woman who could look at a Stack of bills and somehow figure out which one could wait until Friday. The woman who could sit in the car for five minutes, collect herself, walk into work, and do what needed to be done. The woman who learned how to make decisions by herself, pray by herself, parent by herself, fix things by herself, keep going when she didn't particularly feel like going anywhere. She wasn't pretending. She was surviving. And maybe nobody ever stopped long enough to tell her you did a really good job getting us here. You know, I think sometimes healing gets presented as though we need to become angry at the versions of ourselves that learned how to survive. And I'm even beginning to think that maybe we should thank them. Because that woman protected something valuable. You know what she protected? She protected you. But here's where things can get interesting. Pull in that chair a little closer, okay? So what happens when the thing that protected you in one season starts preventing you from living fully in the next one? Because I have found in my own experience, I have found that survival has a strange way of overstaying its welcome. It's like that friend who comes over for coffee and four hours later you're standing at the front door holding her purse, going, girl, uh, this has been wonderful. You know what I'm talking about, right? You see, survival. Survival doesn't always recognize when the emergency is over. So what does it do? Well, it keeps doing what it knows how to do. Don't trust too much. No, don't need too much. And certainly don't expect too much. Oh, and we are definitely not going to feel too much. And definitely, definitely, definitely uh we don't let anybody get too close. And for goodness sake, girl, don't let them see you fall apart. Mm-hmm. How many people did I hit right there? I killed a bunch of birds with one stone. Because listen, I know, I know somewhere along the way, maybe you learned like I did, if I don't need you, you can't disappoint me. If I don't trust you, you can't betray me. If I don't ask you, you can't tell me no. And if I don't let you close, you can't leave me. And if I don't tell you what hurts, you can't use it against me. And that makes sense. It really does, doesn't it? Until one day you, me, we realize, well then, if I don't need anybody, uh nobody gets to help me. If I don't trust anybody, nobody gets to prove themselves trustworthy. If I never ask, nobody gets the opportunity to show up. And if I don't let anybody close, nobody gets to stay. And if I never tell you what hurts, you never really get to know me. That's the trade. Protection, you see, protection always offers us something. But eventually, eventually I have found it starts charging us some rent. And ladies, some of us have been paying way too much for emotional square footage we don't need anymore. That's something I'm beginning to see in my own life. Listen, a painful situation in my family brought some things to the surface that I probably would have preferred remain comfortably underground. And I realized, I realized though, I had a choice. You see, I could take that hurt and say, see, this is exactly why we don't do vulnerability. Build the wall higher. Oh, add another lock, maybe install a ring camera because nobody is getting up in here. Or I could ask a totally different question. I could ask God this question. What are you trying to show me about me through this? Not, well, God, why did this happen? Not even uh God, who was wrong? Or not even, how do I make this stop hurting, Lord? But rather, God, what is this uncovering, uncovering in me? And ladies, that's a dangerous prayer. Because God, let me tell you, God started showing me some things, not just about the situation, but about me. And one of the things I began realizing was that there were parts of myself I had protected for so long, I really didn't know them anymore. You remember what we said earlier? Well, people knew the sherry I was willing to share, but the uncomfortable realization was uh so did I. And that has made me wonder, well, how much of what I've been calling my personality is really actually me? And how much of it is something I learned. Maybe, I don't know, maybe I'm not always the strong one. Maybe I became strong because someone had to be. Maybe, huh? Well, I don't know. Maybe I'm not capable of asking for help. Maybe I learned not to ask because asking once hurt. Maybe I'm not somebody who doesn't need much. Maybe needing less became safer than being disappointed. Maybe I don't actually get over things quickly. Maybe, however, I learned how to move forward because I learned how to sit still long enough to feel. And maybe, just maybe, some of the things I've been saying, that's just who I am. Well, maybe they deserve another look. Because is it? Or is that who I had to become? There's a difference. And please hear me, please hear me now. We're not trying to erase that woman. I like her. She's funny, she's capable, she can get some stuff done. I'm not trying to get rid of her. I'm getting to know the parts of her she didn't think were safe enough to bring along. I'm talking about the woman who cries, the woman who needs, the woman who says, I don't know. The woman who asks for prayer, the woman who admits that hurts me. The woman who can say, you know, I want you to show up for me. The woman who doesn't have to turn every uncomfortable moment into a punchline. Although let's not get too carried away. I mean, I'm just saying some of those moments are really quite funny. But here's what I'm learning. Maybe becoming more vulnerable isn't about becoming a different person at all. Maybe it's about becoming more completely yourself. That's something to think about. Yourself, the strong parts and the tender parts, the capable parts and the uncertain parts, the woman who can handle it and the woman who sometimes shouldn't have to. And I think that's why vulnerability can feel so scary. Because we're not just asking, well, will somebody else accept this version of me? There's another question underneath it. Will I? Will I accept myself when I'm not impressive? When I'm needy, when I don't have an answer, when my faith feels a little shaky, when I'm crying before I figured out what the lesson is, even when I haven't had time to put myself back together and all I've got left is this me today? Can I let her exist without immediately trying to fix her? Can I even let God meet her there? Can I allow somebody trustworthy to sit beside her? Can I be seen before I've cleaned myself up? Because maybe the courage to be seen doesn't actually begin with letting somebody else see you. Maybe, ladies, it begins with finally being willing to see yourself, all of yourself. And perhaps that's why God has been asking us since the very first garden, not why aren't you stronger? Not why don't you have this figured out, not even why are you hiding? But the question he asked Adam, where are you? God knew exactly where Adam was. Adam was the one who needed to come out of the hiding. And maybe that's the question for us today. Where are you? Not where everybody thinks you are, not where the strong version of you says you are, not where you're supposed to be by now. Where are you? Because, girlfriend, you can't let yourself be seen until you're willing to come out of the hiding long enough, long enough to find out who's been hiding there. What has hiding cost you? So we just asked the question, God asked Adam, where are you? And maybe you're beginning to locate yourself.

The Real Cost Of Hiding

SPEAKER_01 32:23

Maybe you're even recognizing a fig leaf or two. I don't know, maybe you are even realizing that some of the things you've always said, like uh that's just who I am, might actually be that's who I learned to be. And if that's happening right now, girl, I want you to know something. It is happening to me too. You are in some good company because listen, actually, and I'm telling you this, actually, while I was working through this very episode, I was sitting in a coffee shop, laptop open, coffee beside me, people all around me doing their thing, and suddenly I felt like I was about to full on cry right there in public. And the old me, the old me probably would have immediately done something with that feeling. Like make a joke, pull it together, look around to make sure nobody noticed. Oh my gravy woman, we're in a coffee shop. It's probably what my inner dialogue would have sound like. But this time, this time was a little different. I just sat there. And the words that came to me were, I see myself. That's it. I see myself. And ladies, I don't know how to explain to you how powerful those three words felt. Because I wasn't discovering that everything I knew about myself was wrong. On the contrary, though, I was discovering there was more of me to know. The strong me is real, the funny me is real, the independent me is real, the capable figure it out, keep it moving me. She is real. But so is the woman sitting in the coffee shop with tears filling her eyes because something finally put words around what she's been experiencing. She gets to be me too. So instead of making a joke, instead of changing the subject, instead of cleaning her up, I just let her sit there. No fixing, no explaining, no pretending I had to suddenly become fascinated by something on my laptop so nobody would notice that my face was a mess. Just, oh there you are. And maybe that's where putting the fig leaf down begins. Not with everybody else seeing you, but maybe it begins with you no longer looking away from yourself. But once you start seeing yourself, I'll just want to let you know another question comes. And this one may sting a little. It did for me. And that's what has hiding cost me? Because remember what we said earlier. Our protection, it gave us something. It gave us safety, control, predictability, it helped us survive. But protection isn't free. Eventually, it's going to send you a bill. And sometime that bill is going to look like loneliness. Not necessarily being alone because there's a difference. You can have a phone full of contacts, a table full of friends, a church full of people, coworkers, family, people who follow you on Facebook, and people who genuinely love you and still feel strangely unknown. Because they know everything you've allowed them to know. They may know your favorite restaurant, your favorite coffee order, your kids' names, your stories, your jokes, your accomplishments. They may even know some of your painful history. But do they know what you're afraid of today? Do they know what you're hoping for? Do they know what you're grieving? Do they know what you need? Do they know what makes you feel insecure? Do they know even when something they did hurt you? Or do they even know when you want them to stay? And here's the question that has really gotten me. Can somebody fully love a version of you that you've never fully allowed them to know? Mmm, think about that. Now, obviously, nobody knows every single thing about us, and thank goodness. Some thoughts just need to remain between you, Jesus, and the notes app. But I am talking something a little different here, okay? I'm talking about being loved while privately wondering: would you still love me if you really knew me? Would you still think I'm strong if you saw me fall apart? Would you still respect me if I said I need help? Would you still want me if you knew how much I want you? Would you still admire my faith if you heard some of the questions I ask God when nobody else is listening, just saying? And would you still think I have it all together if you knew I don't? And if I'm constantly editing myself to make sure the answer is yes, then even when you love me, I may have trouble receiving it. Because somewhere inside me there's a little voice saying, Yeah, but you don't know everything. And girlfriend, that is exhausting. I mean, it also made me realize something else. Goodness, and I'm just peeling all the layers of this onion back. So sometimes we say nobody ever shows up for me, and sometimes that is true. People have failed us, people have disappointed us, people who should have stayed didn't, people who should have helped didn't. We don't need to pretend otherwise. But sometimes, and this one gets me. You see, people don't show up because we never told them we needed them. There it is. Because we say I'm good, I've got this, don't worry about me. No, seriously, I'm fine. And then privately we hurt because nobody noticed that. Nobody noticed that we weren't. But ladies, that's because we trained them. We taught people that we don't need anything. We made strength look effortless. We even became so good at carrying the bags that everybody stopped asking if they were heavy. And then we have the audacity to wonder why nobody offered to help. Well, listen, that doesn't make every disappointment our fault, though, okay? Absolutely not. But vulnerability, ladies, vulnerability requires us to ask an uncomfortable question. Have I given the people who love me an opportunity to love me in the place where I actually need it? Have I said I need you? Can you pray for me? Can you sit with me? Can you call me tomorrow? I am not okay today. That hurt my feelings. I need some help. Because people cannot respond to needs we refuse to reveal. And then there's another cost to hiding that that I didn't really consider. You can lose touch with what you actually want if you spent years asking what needs to happen. What do my kids need? What does work need? What does everybody else need from me? What is responsible? What is practical? What can I handle myself? Well, then you can become incredibly good at answering every question except what do I want? What brings me joy? What makes me feel safe? What makes me feel loved? Well what do I need from friendship? What do I even need from a relationship? But what hurts me? And what matters to me? Who am I when nobody needs anything from me? There's another fig leaf. And maybe that's why this season of my life has felt so different. A deeply painful situation could have pushed me further into hiding. And thankfully, and if I'm being truthful, that would have been familiar because pain has says, see, this is why I don't let people close. But listen, this time somewhere along the way, I decided I didn't want the pain to get the final vote anymore. I didn't want what hurt decided who I should become next. So instead of using the pain to close another door, I've been trying to let God use it to open one. And listen, that has meant doing things that feel incredibly small from the outside. But listen, they are enormous to me. I'm talking about crying in front of people, weeping apparently. And perhaps the hardest of them all is allowing myself to need to be seen without the answer, without having myself all pulled together, even before there's a testimony. And here's another thing I'm beginning to understand. And I guess you're learning that I am learning a lot. There comes a point when protecting yourself, ladies, costs more than vulnerability does. Because yes, vulnerability carries risk. We know that. So if I let you see me, you may not respond the way I hope. If I tell you I need you, you actually may disappoint me. If I tell you something hurt, you may not understand. Or how about if I let myself love deeply, I give myself the capacity to hurt deeply. That's real. But hiding carries risks too. If I never let you see me, you can never fully know me. If I never tell you I need you, you never get the opportunity to show up. And if I never tell you what hurts, well, listen, you never get the opportunity to repair it. And if I never say what I want, I may spend my life accepting what I don't. And if I spend my entire life making sure nobody can hurt me, spend a lot of my life doing that, well, then I may also may make sure nobody can reach me. That's the cost. But as I'm saying all of this, oh, there is another question coming up in me. Oh, you can tell I ask a lot of questions of myself. And listen, I don't think we can talk about all the cost hiding without asking it. Because listen, we've talked about

Are You Hiding From God

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whether we let other people see us. We've talked about whether we're willing to see ourselves, but ladies, do we let ourselves be seen by our Father in heaven? I know, I know, I know that sounds a little ridiculous when you first hear it. Because he's God, he's the big G-O-D. Of course he sees, he knows everything. I mean, in Psalms 139, it tells us he knows when we sit down and when we rise. He knows our thoughts, he knows our words before they're even on our tongue. There isn't a hiding place deep enough. There isn't a fig leaf wide enough. There isn't even a I'm good convincing enough to fool God. So maybe the question isn't, does God see me? Maybe the question is, do I let myself be seen by the Father who already sees me? Oof, that's gotta hit somewhere, right? Because listen, check it. I think we can hide from God without even leaving church. Like we can pray and hide. We can worship and hide. We can even read our Bible and hide. Oh, we can serve some and hide. I mean, listen, we can even tell God what we think we're supposed to tell him while we're carefully avoiding what we're actually feeling. We say things like, oh Lord, I trust you. But really, underneath that is a I'm scared. You might say, uh, your will be done. But underneath that might be a I don't like your will right now. Or how about this? Have you said this one like I forgive them? But underneath that might be, you know what, I am still really angry. Oh God, you've got me. And underneath that it might be, well, then why do I feel so alone? Or how about this? I know you're good, you're a good, good father. Father. But underneath that, well then why did you let this hurt so much, Father? Right? And somewhere along the way, maybe we started believing that faith meant bringing God the cleaned up version of ourselves. You know, the church version, the version with the appropriate Bible verse attached, the version that already knows how the story ends. But have you read the Psalms? I mean, David was not handing uh God the edited version. That man brought some receipts. I'm talking fear, anger, confusion, loneliness, grief, questions, more questions and questions and questions, and some praise. Sometimes practically in the same paragraph. And God called David a man after his own heart. Well, why is that? Well, because maybe intimacy with God was never supposed to require pretending with him. Maybe faith isn't saying this doesn't hurt. Maybe faith is saying, Father, this hurts a lot, and I am bringing the hurt to you. And suddenly, we are right back where we started. The garden. Adam has sinned. Adam is ashamed. Adam is afraid. Adam hides, and God comes walking through the garden asking, Come on, say it with me. Where are you? We've already said God wasn't asking because he needed Adam's GPS location. Okay, no, because he's God. He knew where Adam was. So maybe the invitation wasn't for God to find Adam. It was for Adam to stop hiding. And ladies, what if he's still asking us that? What if he's still asking, where are you? Not where's the version of you who has enough faith? Not where's the strong you, not where's the you who knows the right Christian answer? Just where are you? So what would actually happen if we actually answered, Father, I'm right here and I'm angry. I'm disappointed. I'm just a little scared, God. I don't understand you right now. I miss them. I want something I don't know if you're going to give me. I thought my life would look totally different, God. I believe you, and yet I'm still struggling. I trust you and I'm hurting. I need you. I need you, God. Maybe that's vulnerability in its safest form. Because unlike people, God can't discover something about you that changes his mind about loving you. He already knows the thought you haven't said, the question you're afraid that sounds faithless, the mistake you're ashamed of, the thing you want, the thing you resent, the thing you're still grieving. He already saw behind the fig leaf. And he still came looking for you, anyways. So then what's the cost of hiding from a father who already sees us? Maybe we miss intimacy. Not because God moved, but because we're still relating to him from a place of hiding. Maybe we ask him to heal what we're unwilling to name. Maybe we ask him for peace while refusing to tell him what we're afraid of. I don't know. Maybe we even ask him to change our circumstances while he's trying to meet us inside of them. Girl, I don't know. Maybe maybe we know a lot about God while keeping the most tender part of ourselves from experiencing what it means to be known by him. And perhaps, perhaps that's the greatest cost of hiding. You can know that God loves you without allowing yourself to experience being loved exactly where you are. Not after you fix it, not after you forgive, not after you understand, not even after your faith gets stronger. No, I'm talking not even after you washed your face, fixed your hair, and convinced everybody you're fine again. Right there. Exactly, as you are. And suddenly, where are you? Doesn't sound like an accusation to me anymore. It sounds more like an invitation. It come out. You don't have to explain everything yet. You don't have to have the lesson yet. You don't have to stop crying yet. Just let me see you. And yes, I know he already does. Maybe the miracle is finally realizing we're safe enough with him to stop pretending he doesn't. And maybe that's where I want to leave us today. I mean, we we we went all over the place because listen, we've talked about who else gets to see you before we talked about who

Sit With "Where Are You"

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has earned access, before we talk about vulnerability, boundary, boundaries, oversharing, intimacy, and all the things we're going to get into. Maybe we need to stay right here in the garden. Just you, your father, and whatever you've been hiding behind, and hear him ask, Where are you? Maybe today, for the first time in a long time, you tell him, Where are you? Girlfriend, I think that's where we're going to stop today because we are 49 minutes already in. If you're waiting for me to wrap all this up in a nice little bow and give you three steps to becoming more vulnerable, well, I'm not going to. Not today. Because I'm sitting with this too. And I think sometimes we're so quick to move towards an answer that we miss what God wants to show us in the question. So this week, I want you, and I'm joining you, I want us to actually sit with the same question. Where are you? That's it. Where are you? What are you hiding behind? Maybe it's strength, maybe it's independence, humor, busyness, control, perfectionism, being the helper. Maybe it's I'm good. Whatever it is. Don't rip it away. Don't shame yourself for needing it. And please don't suddenly call 12 people and tell them everything you've ever done since middle school. Please don't. Instead, we're going to talk about that next week. So for now, ladies, just notice it and maybe ask, What am I hiding behind? Who didn't who did I have to become? What has protecting myself cost me? And then maybe the hardest one. Because he does. Maybe you're finally ready to know too. And if the tears come, let them come, girl. I'm learning too. And apparently we are weeping now. So let yourself have the puffy eyes, the messy hair, the day you don't have to have yourself pulled together. Maybe some moments aren't meant to be cleaned up before their experience. So let yourself be there. Let yourself say, This hurts. I'm scared. I'm angry. I'm lonely. I don't know. I need help. I need you. No lesson, no testimony, no punchline, just the truth. Because maybe putting the fig leaf down doesn't begin with showing yourself to the whole world. Maybe it begins rather with standing before the Father who already knows what's behind it and finally saying, Here I am. So let me close this in some prayer. Father, here we are. Some of us are standing right out in the open. And some of us are still hiding behind coverings

A Prayer To Put It Down

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we've spent years creating, strengthening them, perfecting them, maybe even convincing ourselves they are simply who we are. And Father, you know why they're there. You know every hurt that made hiding feel safer, every disappointment, every betrayal, every time we needed someone and they weren't there. Every time we've allowed ourselves to be seen and wished afterwards that we hadn't. You know, Father, you know the woman underneath all of it. Not the polished woman, not the strong woman, not the church woman, not the woman who says I'm good. Us. And Father, give us the courage this week to let you meet us there. Help us tell you the truth when we're angry. And let us say we're angry. When we're afraid, let us say we're afraid. And when we're hurting, let us stop pretending it doesn't hurt. And Lord, when we need help, give us the courage to say I need help. And when we don't even know what we're feeling, let the I don't know be enough. Father, show us where we're confused and where we have confused protection with identity. Show us the difference between who you created us to be and who we learned we had to become. And then Father, do what you always do. And gently in your time, help us put the fig leaf down. Not because everyone deserves to see what's underneath it. Uh we'll get to that. But because you already do, and you love us there. In Jesus' mighty and matchless name, amen. So, ladies, before you go, listen, if today's conversation brought something to the surface and you realize, hmm, I don't want to sit with this by myself, please don't.

Support Resources And Next Week

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If you need someone to pray with you, call the Shepherd's Village prayer line anytime at 855-822 Pray. And listen, if life feels heavy and you need help figuring out what your next step is, visit shepherdsvillage.com and choose immediate support. Or maybe, I don't know, maybe you're ready to start working through some of what today's conversation uncovered. Well, check it at Shepherd's Village University. You can take a free online course right now where you are, including spiritual wellness, health and healing, financial freedom and life skills. You'll find those at sv-university.org. Because sometimes vulnerability, it begins with three very simple words. I need help. And sometimes courage looks like actually reaching for it. So, ladies, that's part one. And I know what some of you are thinking, okay, Sherry, I have found the fig leaf. Now what am I supposed to do with it? Well, that's where we're going next week, okay? So because putting the fig leaf down does not mean everybody gets access to you. Vulnerability without discernment, it isn't intimacy, it is full-on exposure. And if there's a difference between having boundaries and building walls, and there's a difference between privacy and hiding, there is most certainly a difference between being vulnerable and handing somebody access to parts of you they haven't earned the right to hold. So next week, we're continuing the courage to be seen. Maybe not on Monday, because I think Monday is Labor Day, but maybe on the Tuesday it will follow up. But it will be out next week, I promise you. And we will discuss who gets to see you, how much do they get to see, how do you know when someone is safe, and what happens when you finally allow yourself to be known that somebody doesn't handle your vulnerability well. We got some things to talk about, but not yet. This week, just stay in the garden. Don't fix anything, don't force anything, just listen for the question: Where are you? And girlfriend, when you're here, don't be too quick to answer up. So maybe this time tell him where you really are. And I'll meet you back here next week. So have a wonderful week and remember it's a single mom thing, and not the single thing that stops you. Thanks for listening to It's a Single Mom Thing. I hope you enjoyed our time together. If you have more questions on how to have a relationship with Jesus or need prayer, visit us at www.shepardsvillage.com backslash prayer. For more information and resources, check out our show notes.