I was required by my job (a Christian preschool) to attend a training. The state requires so many hours of training per year. Understandable. I wasn't thrilled to spend a Saturday at work, although I have some good friends among my coworkers, so I thought it might be nice to spend a little time with them. I tried to put my best foot forward as I got up and got ready, letting my husband continue to sleep on his side of the bed.
This training was held at our school (which is at a church), but wasn't exclusively for us. Several schools from around the area sent their employees to receive this training.
The speaker was from a few hours away as well. I knew her right away, as soon as she entered. She walked with an air of someone who wanted to be noticed, to be seen as in charge. In fact, I gathered from watching her strut in that she cared more about the image of people thinking she was in charge than whether or not she actually was. It was almost funny. She looked like she had something to prove, with her chest puffed out, her nose in the air, her back arched. And it awakened something inside of me. A warrior I had thought long dead.
The speaker was from a few hours away as well. I knew her right away, as soon as she entered. She walked with an air of someone who wanted to be noticed, to be seen as in charge. In fact, I gathered from watching her strut in that she cared more about the image of people thinking she was in charge than whether or not she actually was. It was almost funny. She looked like she had something to prove, with her chest puffed out, her nose in the air, her back arched. And it awakened something inside of me. A warrior I had thought long dead.
The training started. This woman began speaking (sounding suspiciously like a Valley Girl). From looking at her, as well as from things she had said, I determined she was about my age (which means she was a teenager in the 90's). I felt my defenses rising. Can someone talk like this and still be a wonderful person? Of course. But the way she spoke wasn't just her speech pattern. It was what she said. She let us know (within the first few sentences) that she had been a cheerleader in high school--and had been very good at it. Is there anything wrong with being a cheerleader? Not at all. Is there anything wrong with a speaker sharing these types of details with an audience? Certainly not. But there is something disconcerting about someone who has to tell you they're good at this or that. Humility is a lot more engaging than pride, and even if someone wishes to make that impression, he or she should do it by demonstrating their ability, not brag about it. In the next few sentences, she proceeded to tell us she was skinny (as if we were unable to see that for ourselves, and were supposed to be impressed by this.). She told us her beautiful daughter is also skinny like her, but her son is "husky". She hastened to add that this is because of her husband, not her. As if we care, really! She talked on and on in her screechy Valley Girl voice, and so much of what she said demonstrated a sense of trying to impress us with superficial things. Maybe establish herself. Living on her popularity status from twenty-five years ago. Deep inside me, that warrior--that nineties teenage warrior--wanted to bring her down a notch. I began to feel angry the more I heard. She actually said the sentence, "I'm very successful," and bragged about her accomplishments. Her voice, mannerisms, and gestures came across as very condescending. She talked like we were all three-year-olds. I thought, So this is what happens to mean girls who never grow up. I wanted to tell her, "Hey, 1995 called. They want their shallow, conceited attitude problem back."
During a break, I was sitting with some of my Christian sisters from work, and we were all kind of feeling the same thing. None of us wanted to spend several hours of a Saturday here anyway, and we were all kind of annoyed with what we were hearing. I made a few joking comments about the speaker that made my friends laugh. It was all in good fun, and no one outside our little group overheard us, but immediately, the Holy Spirit convicted me. Suddenly, it wasn't fun anymore, even though I wanted it to be.
We returned to the session, for more of the same. I tried to endure. But as I felt so riled, I had to face myself. Why did she get to me so badly?
The first thing I needed to face was something my mom always said. "People don't build a fortress around their strengths. They build it around their weaknesses." This speaker might have been popular as a high schooler in the nineties. She might not struggle with her weight. She might have achieved a level of success. But she wasn't genuinely happy. She was using these things to build a fortress around her weaknesses and insecurities. This alone gave me more compassion. I mean, if you have to go back so many years for your sense of worth, how sad is that? The same goes for having her worth come from being "skinny" (which isn't a good thing in and of itself anyway. Being healthy is a good thing. Skinny can mean malnourished). But that brought me to the second thing I needed to face.
I'm not so different from this insecure woman. I had a false sense of worth too, as a teenager from the same era. It occasionally flares up now. I wasn't a popular cheerleader. I was seen as smart. I knew how to outsmart everyone, including teachers. Everyone wanted me to help them with their homework. I did, too, out of pride more than a desire to help. I enjoyed having the reputation as the smart one, and I felt good because I could outsmart my peers. Just like this speaker felt good about being skinnier than her peers. Maybe the reason she had grated on me so badly was because I heard in her comments the same attitudes of my own heart, even if I haven't said it aloud. Both of us were getting out self-worth from comparing ourselves to others (for her, it was her body, for me it was my brain). That isn't how we should measure ourselves.
Another thing I had to face was also difficult. In my "smart" teen days, I had my run-ins with popular snobby types. Although most people considered me a very nice person (and I usually was), I was never kind to these types. I rolled my eyes and did everything to show them I thought they were stupid and mean. It hurt me that they treated people (not just me, but anyone not in their clique) so badly. In my hurt, I used the only weapon I felt I had, my brain. I didn't use my brain to make things right. I used it to put them down. That was wrong. Not only did hearing this speaker make me face my own false sense of security in my own life, but also made me face some sins in my past that I needed to confess to the Lord. It also made me face how hurtful popular snobs were toward me. Dealing with old hurts isn't fun. All those feelings of being left out. Not being as confident as I acted. I didn't want to deal with it.
So what is the moral? First of all, our self-worth should come from God, not comparing ourselves to others. Psalm 139:14 says, I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well. First Samuel 16:7 tells us that man looks on the outward, but God sees (and values) the heart. Outward doesn't just mean physical appearance (although it can). It can mean any disguise we wear to mask our insecurities, such as wealth, intelligence, abilities, etc. God has good plans for each of His people (Jeremiah 29:11), work for His kingdom for each of us to carry out (Ephesians 2:10), and is on our side (Romans 8:31). He put so much more in this speaker than skinniness and earthly success. He put so much more into me than being seen as smart. These things are just scratching the very surface of the depth of who God made us to be. Ephesians 3:18 tells us we should grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ. God loves us so deeply, and we sell ourselves short when we seek our value from superficial things.
During a break, I was sitting with some of my Christian sisters from work, and we were all kind of feeling the same thing. None of us wanted to spend several hours of a Saturday here anyway, and we were all kind of annoyed with what we were hearing. I made a few joking comments about the speaker that made my friends laugh. It was all in good fun, and no one outside our little group overheard us, but immediately, the Holy Spirit convicted me. Suddenly, it wasn't fun anymore, even though I wanted it to be.
We returned to the session, for more of the same. I tried to endure. But as I felt so riled, I had to face myself. Why did she get to me so badly?
The first thing I needed to face was something my mom always said. "People don't build a fortress around their strengths. They build it around their weaknesses." This speaker might have been popular as a high schooler in the nineties. She might not struggle with her weight. She might have achieved a level of success. But she wasn't genuinely happy. She was using these things to build a fortress around her weaknesses and insecurities. This alone gave me more compassion. I mean, if you have to go back so many years for your sense of worth, how sad is that? The same goes for having her worth come from being "skinny" (which isn't a good thing in and of itself anyway. Being healthy is a good thing. Skinny can mean malnourished). But that brought me to the second thing I needed to face.
I'm not so different from this insecure woman. I had a false sense of worth too, as a teenager from the same era. It occasionally flares up now. I wasn't a popular cheerleader. I was seen as smart. I knew how to outsmart everyone, including teachers. Everyone wanted me to help them with their homework. I did, too, out of pride more than a desire to help. I enjoyed having the reputation as the smart one, and I felt good because I could outsmart my peers. Just like this speaker felt good about being skinnier than her peers. Maybe the reason she had grated on me so badly was because I heard in her comments the same attitudes of my own heart, even if I haven't said it aloud. Both of us were getting out self-worth from comparing ourselves to others (for her, it was her body, for me it was my brain). That isn't how we should measure ourselves.
Another thing I had to face was also difficult. In my "smart" teen days, I had my run-ins with popular snobby types. Although most people considered me a very nice person (and I usually was), I was never kind to these types. I rolled my eyes and did everything to show them I thought they were stupid and mean. It hurt me that they treated people (not just me, but anyone not in their clique) so badly. In my hurt, I used the only weapon I felt I had, my brain. I didn't use my brain to make things right. I used it to put them down. That was wrong. Not only did hearing this speaker make me face my own false sense of security in my own life, but also made me face some sins in my past that I needed to confess to the Lord. It also made me face how hurtful popular snobs were toward me. Dealing with old hurts isn't fun. All those feelings of being left out. Not being as confident as I acted. I didn't want to deal with it.
So what is the moral? First of all, our self-worth should come from God, not comparing ourselves to others. Psalm 139:14 says, I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well. First Samuel 16:7 tells us that man looks on the outward, but God sees (and values) the heart. Outward doesn't just mean physical appearance (although it can). It can mean any disguise we wear to mask our insecurities, such as wealth, intelligence, abilities, etc. God has good plans for each of His people (Jeremiah 29:11), work for His kingdom for each of us to carry out (Ephesians 2:10), and is on our side (Romans 8:31). He put so much more in this speaker than skinniness and earthly success. He put so much more into me than being seen as smart. These things are just scratching the very surface of the depth of who God made us to be. Ephesians 3:18 tells us we should grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ. God loves us so deeply, and we sell ourselves short when we seek our value from superficial things.
No comments:
Post a Comment