How vulnerability during struggle becomes a powerful testimony of faith

Shantelle Richardson explores why being vulnerable during life challenges can increase understanding, deepen connection and create opportunities to share the Gospel

“Don’t air your business.”For many of us raised in Caribbean households, that wasn’t just advice. It was a way of life.

I learned this early. As a child, I proudly announced at church that my gran had turned 60. I was delighted; she was not. The rebuke that followed made me realise that sharing something publicly could be seen as a kind of betrayal – an abandonment of a deeper cultural instinct to protect what’s personal. From then on, I learned to keep certain things quiet.

As we celebrate Black History Month, it’s worth reflecting on how our history and heritage have shaped us. I suspect many of us have similar instincts, which can affect how we think about vulnerability, including the way we share our faith.

The Windrush Generation came to Britain to build, work hard and prove themselves in a society that was ready to dismiss them. They arrived in a country where people were looking at them – and they knew it. Presenting yourself impeccably was survival, not vanity. You didn’t give people reasons to question you; you kept things together.

That posture was passed down. What began as necessity has, in many ways, become part of our identity.

Understanding this is essential. When we encourage vulnerability within certain cultures, we are not simply asking people to overcome fear or pride. We are asking them to work against something that was built to protect them.

Then there’s shame. In many Caribbean communities, shame goes deeper than embarrassment, and openness carries the risk of being defined by your struggles rather than your strengths. In tight-knit communities, where relationships are strong and reputations matter, that risk feels even greater. Yet the Gospel points us in a different direction.

Our faith is centred on a God who enters human suffering. Jesus meets people in weakness, grief and disappointment. He never asks us to pretend we are stronger than we are. Yet, even in church, we can feel pressure to present a finished story.

Growing up, I loved our church’s testimony services. There was something beautiful about declaring: “Look what God has done.” But testimonies are often told in the past tense. They come with resolution, breakthrough and conclusions.

What’s harder to share is the ongoing struggle. The prayers that aren’t yet answered. The pain that doesn’t yet make sense.

Sometimes, we rush too quickly to reassure. We say: “God has a purpose” or “He’s working it out.” But, when spoken too soon, they leave little room for lament.

Scripture offers a fuller picture. The Psalms are filled with raw honesty, grief and unanswered questions. The Bible doesn’t rush people through suffering. It makes space for it and models a way that maintains our trust in God.

Many people inside and outside church are carrying burdens that can’t be packaged into a finished testimony yet. And that’s where vulnerability becomes important for evangelism.

When I began attending a mums and tots group with my son, I remember a moment where I found myself admitting to a room full of women I barely knew, that the early months of motherhood had been genuinely overwhelming. In the tiredness and struggle, I was met with a shared understanding.

It was not the kind of thing the “Don’t air your business” script would permit. But the conversation it opened about my faith was worth it.

For those of us shaped by cultures where openness doesn’t come naturally, that is an important reminder. Vulnerability is not revealing everything to everyone. It can be wise, gradual and appropriate.

But it does mean allowing people to see that our faith operates in the middle of real life, not only after problems have been resolved.

The question is not whether Christians should be vulnerable. The question is how we create communities where vulnerability is safe.

One of the greatest strengths within Black Church traditions has always been community. Black History Month gives an opportunity not only to celebrate resilience and achievement, but also to consider how our churches can become places where people are honest about their victories and their struggles.

For Black British Christians, this may mean holding two things together: honouring the wisdom of our cultural inheritance, while allowing the Gospel to gently reshape our understanding of strength and sharing.

Perhaps true strength is not always found in holding it together, but in allowing others to see where God is holding us.

When that happens, our witness becomes more credible, compassionate and Christlike. Sharing Jesus stops being about presenting a perfect story and becomes an invitation into a real one.

Find out more about strength in vulnerability in LCM’s Everyday Evangelism podcast at lcm.org.uk/resources/podcasts

SHANTELLE RICHARDSON
Director of Communications, London City Mission