I am currently resting on a beautiful veranda in South Africa, looking out at the sandy beach and endless ocean, listening to the crashing waves, all the while surrounded by a magnificent range of mountains. As I sit here pondering, my heart is as full of details as the setting in which I find myself. While I would love to take a snapshot and send it to you, I am fully aware that a picture would never do the scenery justice. In the same way, I want to share my heart with you but I am certain my words cannot convey the fullness therein. None-the less I will make an attempt for the sake of moving forward.
The last few years of my life have been riddled with pain and uncertainty. I had a family that loved me, but still felt alone. I had a job that was stable but still felt discontent. I had skills in which I excelled but still felt unsure. I needed a break. I needed to take some time and "figure things out." That's when I decided to go on the World Race. Mahatma Ghandi once said, "The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others." In the three months that I have been traveling the world serving the underprivileged I have found this to be true, but not in the way you might think.
Living as I am, in a community, where I am sharing my life, my space, my work, my time, my things, with the same 6 people on a daily basis caused me to begin asking a lot of questions.
* Why do I tend to use sarcasm when I'm upset?
* Why do I hate listening to other people who have the same ideas I have?
* Why do I get so annoyed when people are late?
* Why do I cringe when people tell me what to do?
* Why do I buck against expectations?
* Why do I become uncomfortable around strong people?
* Why do I get so irritated because other people like the same things I like?
* Why do I always wander away from large groups of people?
* Why do I get nervous talking to one person when I can easily talk to 100?
* Why do I assume someone is patronizing me when they give me a complement?
* Why am I always contrary, feeling like I have to argue against whatever is said?
* Why does it bother me to never be alone?
* Why do silly little things that have no bearing on my life whatsoever make me insane?
* Why don't I share more of my feelings with the people around me?
* Why don't I like people prying into my life?
* Why do I feel like I'm intruding on people any time I ask them a question about their life?
Each of these questions probably has a quick and logical answer but asking them forced me to probe deep into my soul and take a look at what was happening beneath the surface. The results were alarming. I had become what I had always dreaded, what I had vowed never to become. This may shock you, as it did me, but I was – I am – battling insecurity. Even saying those words out loud, or writing them in a public place for all to see makes me shiver. I hate it. I want to deny it, but I can't.
It didn't take long for me to realize there were two pervading insecurities.
1. From the time I was little I had always been told I was beautiful. It was affirmation that I never sought, and I never worked for, but it was constant and powerful. Unfortunately, beauty is a superficial characteristic that has nothing to do with your inner personhood. It is relative. it changes, and it fades. I now find myself a 35 year old divorce' living among 20-somethings, and desperately striving to conform to their definition of beauty because it's the only form of personal identity I know.
2. I have always been independent and unique. I never cared what people thought of me, my decisions, my clothes, or anything else, and I was always seeking adventure which many people admire but are afraid to seek themselves. Their awe of my choices and adventures made me feel good about myself, like I was doing something special. But now I am living among unique adventure seekers which means that what I do is no longer special.
If I don't have beauty or a unique sense of adventure to offer, what do I have?
Nothing . . .
Here I am on the other side of the world, lost and broken. Completely unaware of who I am or what I have to offer the world. And just when I thought It couldn't get any worse, it did, because once again I asked a question. This time the question was "Why?" Why do I feel this way? Why do I suddenly care? Why am I insecure? Why?
That's when the ugly little answer crept out from under the rock where I wish it had stayed dormant forever – secret and hidden away.
COMPARISON. Gross. Realizing it was devastating. Admitting it is humiliating. I compare myself, my things, my talents, my interests, my jobs, my intelligence, my ideas, my answers, my appearance, my relationships, my clothes, my words, my gifts, my mistakes, my experiences in an attempt to assess where I fit. I am currently reading a book called So Long Insecurity in which the author, Beth Moore, states that an insecure or self conscious person "is more aware of herself than she tends to be of any other person in the room. Whether she feels inferior or superior, she takes a frequent inventory of her place in the space."
What?
Gross?
Who does that?
Apparently I do. Comparison is an evil little thief that is trying to steal my joy and there is no way in hell I'm about to let it win! I will overcome. I will shed the ugly scales of insecurity and allow myslef to be redressed in the clothing of freedom, colorfully accessorized with love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, kindness, goodness, loyalty, and self discipline. But how do I do that? As human beings we often need a significant motivator, a life change to propel us forward, to make us want to leave the comfort of where we are and journey into the unknown.
I'll admit I was really angry when I received the message last week. What I read made me want to cry, then smash breakable objects against a wall, then hit someone or something. I experienced a rapidly changing display of emotions, and I cried for three days. My heart was thrashed. The emotional pain that I felt in that moment was gut-wrenching. I have never felt more alone, more invisible, more rejected, more insecure. I needed change to create forward movement and I got it. I felt like Eustace Srubb when he turned into a dragon in The Voyage of the Dawn Treador. I, like him, had absolutely no control over the situation in which I found myself – well, no control except for my response. And whether I like it or not, whether it's easy or not, whether it makes sense or not, whether I know how to or not, I must leave the past behind me and move forward. I cannot continue to act like a boy if I am, in fact, now a dragon. I must leave the people I love in the hands of their Creator and trust that He knows better than I do, that He is stronger than I am, that His plans are more glorious than mine. And even though I'm scared to death – scared that it won't turn out the way I want, scared that I won't be happy in the end, scared that the claws of the Lion will tear right through to my heart, I must somehow reconcile that it is the only way. I cannot do it myself, and He does not need my help to bring about His good and perfect plan. I must allow Him to undress me, to peel away the scales even if it hurts.
In her book, Beth Moore explains her opinion that "God uses change to change us. He doesn't use it to destroy us or to distract us but to coax us to the next level of character, experience, compassion, and destiny. . . How will we ever change if everything around us stays the same?" Although I have hopes and dreams for my future I cannot get anywhere by remaining stagnant. I must move forward. Change can be excruciatingly difficult, but as Eustace found out, it can also be exceedingly beautiful. And while I have always identified beauty with an outward appearance I am hopeful that the journey of change on which I am about to embark will redefine beauty for me. I hope that as I change my character and identity will become transformed like that of Eustace Srubb and and I will begin to identify beauty with freedom. That freedom will allow me to know exactly who I am and embrace it. And I believe that as my new and true identity emerges the scales of my insecurities will fall to the ground and no longer hold any power over me.
