I’ve always been drawn to having hard conversations. I value vulnerability and try to practice it in my interactions, my prayers, and my relationships, believing that an honest offering can give permission to the other and open the way for authentic, transformative dialogue. I do this with God, in my marriage, parenting, friendships, and ministry connections wherever possible.

 

But I haven’t always got it right. Sometimes my timing is off, or the intensity of the content isn’t held in a spacious or safe (brave) enough context. Sometimes my intent isn’t love, but control or anger or disappointment. I haven’t paused to prayerfully connect with Jesus’ intent for that conversation.

 

Already, a few buzzwords appear here, and I’m sorry for that. One of them in the title, safe places, I’ve wrestled with. I prefer brave over safe, because there are no guarantees. Bravery assumes risk; it trusts without knowing. Safety, on the other hand, implies the absence of risk, a certainty that vulnerability can’t promise. Yet I keep safe alongside brave because the pairing holds the tension: it’s safe, but not too safe.

 

That tension matters, because one of our deepest struggles in community today is this: we rarely share honestly, deeply, or authentically with each other. Why? Because we often don’t feel safe enough to do so. So, we play it safe, curating our carefully crafted selves, managing impressions rather than risking being known. We play the polite game.

 

But I’ve come to see this as dangerous ground. Under the guise of niceness, we often (inadvertently) engage with falsehood. We don’t speak when we should, or we speak a pleasant half-truth to protect… something. And so, hiddenness grows. Play out that logic with me: this is the pattern of the language of another kingdom. That of Satan and darkness. And it holds a subtle captivity. It doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable… and we really like our comfort.

 

Truth, on the other hand, sets us free. It’s the language of Jesus and His Kingdom. Truth always resonates, even if it’s resisted at first. It’s not always easy to hear. But it is clear. It can be, and often is, extremely humbling. Which is where it can get confusing because we’ve all been wounded by people who have spoken “their truth” without love (proof that truth without love is brutality, and love without truth is sentimentality). But it didn’t lead to conviction or change or growth in love, just a sense of confusion, shame, condemnation and relational withdrawal. “By their fruit you will know them.”

 

It is noteworthy that our ‘subtext’ speaks louder than we realise. Around 90% of our communication is non-verbal. Our bodies betray our intent. If the motive beneath our vulnerability isn’t love, then whatever we say becomes little more than a clanging gong. And that painful reverberation is felt by the other.

 

 

1. Begin with love.
The intent for every hard conversation must be love; love for God and for the other as self. Work out your motives with Jesus first. Fear, control, anger, or envy can all masquerade as righteousness. Let love be genuine.

 

2. Create intentional invitation.
Transformation requires consent. A forced conversation rarely bears fruit. If the invitation is accepted, intend a place, a time, and a spacious timeframe. Prepare the soil with prayer.

 

3. Practice vulnerability as an offering in context.
Offer your vulnerability not from a need to speak, but rather from listening. Let your words arise from a receptive listening—to the other’s story, the group setting, and to God’s heart. Love pays attention to context. Around a men’s fire, I may share things I’d never say in a boardroom. And vice versa.

 

4. Offer reciprocity and re-clothing.
When someone has been vulnerable, don’t leave them exposed. Reaffirm their Belovedness. Remind them of who they are in Christ, and the true self that is safe and hidden in Him. Vulnerability unclothes; love re-clothes. Perhaps they confessed sin or fear or shame. Respond by speaking the truth of God’s perfect love and your deepened affection for them in their bravery. That’s the kind of ‘safe’ I like.

 

5. Lead by culture-setting.
If you lead others, model this way of truth and love. Appropriate vulnerability in leadership builds trust, depth, and safety. As Proverbs reminds us, “Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but profuse are the kisses of an enemy.” Hard conversations offered and received in love deepen our relationships, forming them not in superficiality, hiddenness, performance, power imbalances or niceties, but by the cruciform, self-emptying love of Jesus. 

 

And this is extremely important. Because it is by this kind of love for one another, that the world will know.