Bring your brokenness

I've had the words to Francesca Battistelli's song, 'If We're Honest' stuck in my head today. I haven't heard it in a while, so when that happens, I know that God is trying to tell me something. I've been puzzling it through and praying about it throughout my day, and I finally have my answer. He is asking for my honesty. For my brokenness. For the very things that we all hide from the world.
Earlier, on a return trip to Walmart (because of course I forgot something!), I had a thirty minute conversation with an older gentlemen. I could hardly hear him, but when I did understand him, we talked about his pets and bowel movements and where he lives. It was a moment that struck me. He felt open enough with me to tell me about one of the most secretive things in a person's life. How many of you would tell a perfect stranger about a BM so bad you had to toss your clothes? I would be willing to bet the answer is not very many. But he was. And it finally clicked when I got home. That's what He is asking of me. To let people in. To share my good moments and my bad moments. If I wasn't dealing with a chronic illness, I wouldn't be at Walmart in the middle of the day. I wouldn't be able to sit and listen to a gentleman who just needed someone to sit with him for a moment, to know someone else heard him. I wouldn't be able to answer the phone or a message when someone needs prayer. I wouldn't be able to listen. I wouldn't be as solid a prayer warrior as I am now.
If I'm honest, when I am well, I make myself too busy to slow down and take in His world. I hide my brokenness and pain and put up a brave front. If I am not honest about my brokenness and pain, how can anyone be honest with me? If I don't allow them to see how my Saviour helps me grow through my brokenness and pain, how can they see that growth? They can't.
Over the last few months, He has really been convicting me about my pride. I've been such a prideful human, not letting anyone really see what was going on with me. Not letting people IN, hiding behind "I'm fine, how are you?" If I can't bring my brokenness to the table, how can I ask them to bring theirs? I can't. I have to be willing to break my pride and allow Him to do what He is going to do with it. I have to be willing to let Him use every single thing that is part of my story.
Because after all, my story is His story.