If you ask a World Racer what’s the hardest thing about these 11 months, it’s usually community. It’s 11 months of learning how to live in an intense, real, vulnerable community.
We practice feedback. We want to push each other to be the best we can be and to live in the fullness of what God’s called us to, so we will lovingly point out the “spinach in our teeth”- the little rough patches in our lives that need to be refined and smoothed out in order for us to live more Godly, holy lives.
There’s this special kind of feedback called “superfeedback.” It’s encouraged to do it once a week, and everyone on your team is required to give constructive and positive feedback to each person. Sounds intense, right? That’s because it is. And it takes forever. It can be exhausting, but it’s so worth it, and it unites your team whether you think it does or not.
My team went through this lovely exercise of encouragement and exhortation earlier this week.
My constructive feedback: Be Bold.
If you know me, you know that I’m just naturally a quiet person. I’m independent, I’m self motivated, and I don’t draw a ton of attention to myself. In making decisions, I usually just sit back- I’m fine with anything, I’m not picky. Even if it’s an important decision and I know one choice will be better than another, I’d rather not say anything the majority of the time. I legitimately don’t care, and I’m used to not being heard.
But that’s the thing: I’m used to not being heard.
While a lot of it goes back to being the youngest in a busy family of five kids and other small seeds planted throughout my life regarding the value of my words, blaming my tendency to not speak up on the past isn’t going to get me anywhere. I’m not here to throw a pity party. It’s not going to help me be more bold.
Is there something about my identity that I need to work through? Is it something I just need to cry about?
Boldness vs. Timidity has been a pretty much constant battle in my life. It doesn’t surprise me that it’s even more evident this month as I’m team leading.
It’s not that I can’t say anything. It’s not that I even don’t say anything. It’s the way I say it. It’s the deep rooted fear that’s behind anything involving my voice. Some days it’s worse than others. Some days I feel completely comfortable telling people what to do, delegating, voicing my opinion, etc. It’s those days where I’m not sure what I want, when I feel more insecure about myself (for whatever reason), and when I feel like my voice doesn’t make a difference or isn’t important.
This issue surrounding my voice is deep. It’s messy. It hurts.
I don’t have a huge epiphany (yet) or any ending message. I know that my voice and opinion are valuable and important first and foremost to God and secondly to my brothers and sisters in Christ. I’m just praying that one of these days it’ll hit my heart and make a lasting change.
