So I'm finally back online.
Three weeks hiding out from email, facebook, blog posts...
It was beautifully restful. Easy. Comfortable.
And now I'm back in the game, catching up on all my favorite bloggers, and I feel...
Tired. Overwhelmed. Like giving up.
Because if I can't be special in this game -
If I'm just one of thousands others stumbling along mid-pack -
If I'm mediocre -
Then I don't really want to be in the game at all.
Isn't that what we all strive for?
To be special?
A couple of days ago I peeved my husband, because I argued with him, in a public forum, that I'm not special. I'm just a regular, stumbling-around mom, like a thousand other moms. Sure, I can do some special things: sing, dance, have babies, encourage, maybe even write.
But do I have greatness in any of those areas? Not really.
Kevin gets all red-in-the-face-frustrated at me. Telling me what a great mom I am to our seven children. Insisting that I'm such a great writer. That I have so much greatness to offer the world. How great I am for juggling so much with our family, and still writing, reaching out, encouraging other women.
I sigh and nod. But that's not it. I'm not struggling with some low-self-esteem issue. I have plenty of issues, don't get me wrong...but self-loathing isn't the favored monkey on my back or anything. (Okay, well, maybe a few days outta the month.) But generally, the problem is the opposite sin-monkey. More like comparison. More like ego. More like pride.
Because, hey, I think I'm pretty "BAM," like 6-yr old Ian says, giggling with knuckles offered. Then I compare myself with those other rockstar bloggers...and my pride gets all beaten down into this whiny-petulant-little-girl wad of self-pity. 'Cause if I'm so great, how come I can't keep it together to even post anything for like, 3 weeks straight??? All the way across the globe, Laura managed it. So did Lisa-Jo, even with holiday travel. And my friend Anne-Marie blogs practically every day. Jamie took time to write, even about her irritation with blogging stupid resolutions. And don't get me started with how encouraged & inspired & small I feel when I read Ann's posts.
But Kevin would say I'm special 'cause I'm blogging at all. 'Cause I'm in the game.
Sure, I have plenty of friends who aren't even in the game.
Well, not this game at least.
But then again, they have their own game: Teacher of the Year. Missionary with the Most Converts. Top Salesman. PTO President. Advertising Executive with the Corner Office. Hippest Youth Pastor in Town. MOPS Steering Committee Leader. Volleyball Coach. Homeroom Mom who brings the Best Snacks.
Most of us are in the game, in some way or another.
My friend Nate says we're all striving for Significance. His wife says we're really striving for Love.
I think we're striving for Greatness. We all want to be the Special People.
When I posted this quandary to my friends in Free Agent Academy, I got a slew of responses about how we are all special in Christ Jesus. About how fearfully & wonderfully we're made; "Oh, Teri, you're just super!" And I think of that character 'Syndrome' from The Incredibles, saying, "When everyone's super...no one will be."
So if we're ALL so special...then are we...really...special?
(From dictionary.com) Special: of a distinct or particular kind; having a specific or particular function, purpose, etc; distinguished or different from what is ordinary or usual; origin - Latin - speciālis - of a given species
Hmmm...distinct, having a particular function, of a given species...
Maybe special doesn't mean exactly what I thought it meant.
Maybe it's more about Connection. Relationship. Belonging.
I just don't have it figured out, y'know? I'm supposed to tie up the end of this blog with a tidy bow, with a scripture trail, with words of great wisdom, that leave you nodding & going, "...wow..."
But I can't get my head around it.
So I write to figure it out. A bit here, a bit there, dribbling onto the keyboard, from conversations and books and study and prayer and thinking and frustration and the busyness of life careening forward. I write to share the vulnerable truth of how I know that I know that I know I'm walking in The Light, but I still stumble around with my blind ears and deaf eyes and world-saturated-Spirit-starving heart.
I know this: when I flip up my computer screen and get into this blogging, emailing, facebooking, online game - I begin to strive for your approval. I ache for greatness, significance. I wanna be one of the special people.
If I pass that feeling thru the filter of God's Word, it seems icky & wrong & greedy for applause:
But as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, even so we speak, not as pleasing men, but God who tests our hearts. - 1 Thess 2:4
So, okay, Lord, I hear You: I am writing here, entrusted to press into truth & share & stumble around seeking His Light, in order to please God and not man. Yet, just like Paul confesses in the book of Romans, I do what I don't wanna do, and don't do what I oughta. And really? Truthfully? I'm not the only one, am I?
I want to be special, cause I want to belong, cause I want connection and relationship. And okay! duh! My main connection needs to be with my Abba! Again, when I put that thru the filter of His Word, He smiles at me, and chuckles, and strokes my cheek, and says,
Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love;
Therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you. - Jeremiah 31:3
So maybe I don't have to figure it out? Maybe I don't write for fame or fortune or missions-support or orphan-care or the polished-poetic beauty that leads to book deals. Maybe I'm just supposed to light my little candle, in my little house, on my little hill.
Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven. -Matt 5:15-16
It is hard to leave the comfortable complacency of hiding out, and let this little light of mine shine. 'Cause my ego stomps around like a bullied-bully, saying, "aw, forGET it!" My pride puts her nose in the air and plops that basket over the light-of-Him-in-me, and sniffs, "well, never mind!"
Kevin says something along the lines of this:
When I run that thru the filter of God's Word - I sit here with my fingers still. Quiet. Re-reading. Listening. Oh.
God has given each of you some special abilities; be sure to use them to help each other, passing on to others God's many kinds of blessings. - 1 Peter 4:10 TLB
So I guess I'll keep stumbling around.
Stumbling around in His Light, carrying the little light He has for me to shine.
Sometimes dim & flickering, sometimes bright & steady. Yeah, I snuff it out sometimes with my own sin-monkey issues. But the next morning, the next week, the next month...eventually, there's a new spark.
God created a special spark within me, with its own unique glow, fragrance, resonance.
Don't have to light the world. Just my little neck of the woods.
(Okay, maybe not so bad? Somewhat in the general vicinity of a tidy-little-ending? What - You think it took me four days and about 15 do-overs to write? well, yeah, so what...)
Got anything special you're stumbling around with, hiding-out under a basket?