How often do we walk around with our “F.I.N.E.” masks on? I know I did that all my life. I mastered the art of looking fine on the outside while feeling anything but on the inside. F.I.N.E. was just a cover for me—Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. It was a performance, a way of keeping people at arm’s length, and, if I’m honest, a way of keeping God at arm’s length too. 

From a very young age, I had been disappointed and hurt by people so many times that I vowed not to be vulnerable to protect my heart. I hardened my heart to relationships because I had decided that good things don’t last.

But here’s the thing about masks: they might protect us for a moment but also isolate us. They make it impossible for others to see our real needs and even more challenging for us to receive the healing and help we desperately crave.

I was reminded of this while watching an interview between Simon Sinek and Trevor Noah. Simon said something profound: “Trust is not built by offering help. Trust is  built by asking for help.” Think about that. Asking for help isn’t a weakness—it’s the foundation of trust.

One of my hardest lessons has been learning to be vulnerable about sharing current struggles, not just testimonies. When I let my guard down and allowed the tears to flow and members to pray for me during group sessions, the dynamics of our group changed. 

Stepping into that space has allowed incredible things to unfold—not just in my life but in the lives of others. In my groups, attendees have become more open, willing to share their stories, and brave enough to ask for prayer. It’s been a powerful reminder of how God works through community and connection.

Vulnerability is powerful because it leads to intimacy. When we let someone truly see us—in-to-me-see, we open the door to a deeper connection. Whether with God or others, vulnerability is the bridge that invites healing, trust, and love into our lives.

What if that same principle applies to our relationship with God? What if the healing we seek begins with a simple act of vulnerability—acknowledging our pain, our fears, and our brokenness? What if the mask is the very thing keeping us from God’s healing hand?

God won’t heal what we won’t acknowledge. Take off the mask. Let God and others in-to-you-see. Acknowledge what’s real. That’s where healing and growth begin. That’s where trust grows. And that’s where intimacy flourishes.

Trust Him enough to take off the mask. Acknowledge what’s real. That’s where the healing begins.

I have asked those close to me to look me in the eye when I answer the question “How are you?” so they can call me out when I’m tempted to return to my old habit of being “fine” or “good”. Would you be willing to allow some people in to carry you through the hard times?