Thank G-d for Making Me Vulnerable

If I allowed myself to be vulnerable, I would tell you about my fear of vulnerability.

Whether it’s allowing oneself to experience emotion, voice an opinion, or make a career change, those willing to be vulnerable—while risking shame, rejection, and failure—open themselves to growth and transformation.

In the works of Chassidut, it is explained that transformative growth does not merely require vulnerability; it requires a breakdown as well. While something whole can grow larger or taller, it cannot transform. For the seed to become a sapling, it must decay. For the olive to produce oil, it must be crushed. For the caterpillar to become a butterfly, it must cocoon.

The stage between stages is not simply vulnerable—it is debilitating. There is neither seed nor fruit; we do not have olive or oil. There is no fuzzy caterpillar and no colorful butterfly. Yet, only through the breakdown is transformation possible.

In an emotional scene, the Torah describes how Jacob, having been a refugee in what is today Iraq for twenty years, is returning to his parents’ home and the promised land. Over the course of two decades, he did not simply survive—he thrived. He built a family and amassed great wealth while holding on to his identity and integrity.

Now, as he prepares to go home, he becomes vulnerable again. Esau is marching with a small army, determined to eliminate his eleven young children, four wives, and Jacob himself.

“Jacob was exceedingly afraid and distressed,” reads the story. He was afraid he might be killed and distressed that he might have to kill, explains the Talmud. His journey home was perilous. He felt vulnerable.

In a moving prayer, he tells G-d: “I am made small from all the kindness… which You have done.”

Jacob is not only expressing a sense of humility; he is also expressing gratitude for the vulnerability and setback he is experiencing. He is saying: “My smallness, my vulnerability, my sense of fear is an act of Your kindness. You moved me beyond my previous state of mastery and brought me into a new reality so a far greater reality can emerge.”

The seed must decay for the grain to grow. The olive must be crushed for the oil to be extracted. I needed You to make me vulnerable to become who I am truly supposed to be.

Being vulnerable is exceedingly scary and distressing. Yet, if we can say, “Thank G-d for making me vulnerable,” we can hold on to the faith and promise of renewal that our vulnerability brings us.

More on this topic: Talmud Menachot 53B, The Tanya Epistle 2