Bethlehem: Vulnerability, Confession, and Wholeness

 

Every year, we attend Christmas services, and often the sermons unexpectedly hit our hearts. This year, one sermon deeply impacted me and became closely connected to my personal confession and healing journey.

At my church, sermons are sometimes delivered through short dramas—covering topics like online gambling, integrity, and daily struggles. But the sermon I heard in early December stood out in a different way. It wasn’t dramatic—it was deeply humbling.

Jesus Was Born in Humility, Not Perfection

Jesus was not born in a fancy palace, a castle, or even a hospital. He was born in Bethlehem, in a stable meant for animals. That reality struck me deeply. The Savior of the world entered humanity in complete humility and vulnerability.

That sermon stirred something in me. It made me want to be honest—truly honest—and vulnerable before God and others.

Insecurity, Comparison, and Social Media Struggles

During a prayer meeting last week, I shared about my insecurities, especially those triggered by social media. Everyone’s life seems successful, joyful, and put together—except mine.

Then I reflected on Jesus’ early life. His childhood wasn’t easy either. His parents had to flee to Egypt because King Herod ordered the killing of infants. Even the Son of God faced instability, fear, and displacement.

That realization reminded me that a difficult season does not mean God is absent.

Why Vulnerability Feels Unsafe

Vulnerability has always felt dangerous to me. I fear being judged. Old memories still haunt me—being rejected by fellow church youth when I was still in school.

Those wounds shaped my desire to quickly get a stable job and even move to another church. Avoidance felt safer than openness.

The Turning Point: Bethlehem as a Mirror

Jesus was born in a barn, not a castle. His most vulnerable moment carried real risks.

And I asked myself:
If God chose vulnerability to enter the world, why am I ashamed of mine?

He is the Savior of the world—and yet He embraced weakness. That realization became my turning point.

From that moment on, I began practicing vulnerability—not only in my prayer meetings but also with my accountability partner.

Confession and Openness: What Changed When I Spoke

If you’ve read my confession story, you probably noticed the relief I felt afterward. But honesty doesn’t mean instant perfection.

After being free for two weeks, I relapsed. Once. Then again.

But instead of hiding, I confessed to my accountability partner.

Confession didn’t make me perfect—it made healing possible.

Healing Is Ongoing, Not Instant

My journey hasn’t been a straight line. I relapse, feel guilt and shame, and sometimes fall into the same cycle again.

I realized that addiction became my “safe haven” when I couldn’t cope with life. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, I returned to that familiar rabbit hole.

Yet God has remained faithful. He forgives me again and again.

I once believed I was doomed for life—but I’m not.

The Bible reminds us that even righteous people fall many times, yet they rise again.

Jesus Himself grew slowly. Scripture is silent about His life between ages 12 and 30—years of preparation, growth, and obedience.

Healing is not a miracle moment. It’s a relationship.

What Vulnerability Taught Me

Through this journey, vulnerability has taught me powerful truths:

• I’m not fighting alone—the Holy Spirit is my real-time accountability partner

• Sin must be brought into the light through confession to heal

• God meets honesty, not performance

• Safe people matter

• Healing takes time

• Shame loses power when it is named

The most important lesson of all:
Always get back up—even when you relapse again and again.

Don’t promise God perfection. Admit your weakness so He can help you.

A Question for Reflection

“What are you hiding because you’re afraid?”

Confession is the first step toward healing. Gather your courage and speak. Journaling can help you track your daily progress and remind you how far you’ve come.

Reach out to mentors, trusted friends, or accountability partners. Why not start before the new year?

Final Reflection: Healing Through Honesty

I didn’t confess to be perfect.
I confessed to heal.
And that’s where God met me.

In my story, healing doesn’t mean flawlessness. It means honesty. It means vulnerability.

That is where God begins to shape us—pulling us out of sin, breaking addiction, restoring wholeness, and transforming our lives for the better.