On a Wing and A...Fear? (Fear -- Part 2)

I had this really great thing I was going to blog about today, in the second installment on the “get real” topic of fear. I had the challenge questions all laid out, and the practical “how-tos” in order. It was mostly done, tied up in a neatly written package. The funny thing is, though I wanted to post it, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was not what I was supposed to write about. I tried to tweak it. I started it, edited it, then came back to it, certain that it was just temporary writer’s block that kept me from finishing it. I wanted it to be the right post, but it just went nowhere. So I slept on it. I woke up without the usual passion I have for writing my next blog. Sitting in front of my computer this morning, I finally surrendered to the fact that it was NOT the message I was supposed to post today. So I went back to the drawing board. That’s where I currently reside.

Forgive me for winging it.

So many things have been running through my head this week, reading all of the comments from my last post and reading through your emails. You have touched my heart, and your words have resonated with me on many levels. (I want so badly to jump through the computer screen and sit down and have coffee with every one of you to hear more about your passions and find out about your world!) One of the things I hear you saying over and over again is about how you have, either currently, or in the past, been listening to the little whispers in your ear about how you might not measure up…don’t have enough to offer…or aren’t good enough to write or share about anything.

I am so familiar with these “whispers,” that I can understand where you are coming from.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, my father has been in ministry for 40+ years, and he was a pastor for many of those. I grew up a preacher’s kid, and I did the things most preachers’ kids do to function in their “designated” role. I answered all the appropriate questions when asked. I rattled off Scripture on command. I smiled sweetly at the WMU ladies (Baptist girls, you will know what this stands for!) and was showered with both love and attention. I was a professional PK, and I played the role well. (And yes, I even kissed a few deacons’ boys behind the church, too! But that’s beside the point. :))

I loved being a PK and the way it made me feel.

So when at 10 years old, my father resigned his pastoral position to go and do a ministry on his own, I didn’t like it. We wound up moving to another state and attended a large church where I was suddenly completely anonymous. Sure, a few people knew what my dad did and where he had come from, but I was no longer the pastor’s daughter and was no longer showered with the same attention as one. This caused my little 10-year-old self more than a little pain and agony, as my identity of being a pastor’s daughter had been stripped away from me. And as a result, I was left without a job.

Though I was much too young to know it, what I was really dealing with was a self-esteem issue. For years, my self worth had been wrapped up in my father’s position in the church, not in me as a person. Even at that young age, I responded to the attention his position got me, to the point where it made me feel like a nobody when that position was no longer there.

I faced a similar crisis of identity a few years ago when my husband lost his job and was out of work for nearly 18 months. At some point in the process, I realized that my previous role of wife of a successful entrepreneur in a non-profit ministry had changed. I was now the wife of a very frustrated, unemployed man. Of course, he had to deal with changing roles of his own, as he went from a man with a Master’s degree and a great job and provider of his family to a man with a Master’s degree with no job, facing rejection upon rejection from the job market, praying to be able to provide for his family. In the middle of such a crises, I learned very quickly that what my husband did had very little to with who he actually was. He hadn’t changed, though this circumstance and title had. It took me back to those PK days…and remembering the importance of separating what we “do” from who we “are.”

What we do…is about a job. A life circumstance or title. A role we play. An action or activity.

Who we are is quite different.

Who we are…is our created self. Who we are meant to be. Our relationship to the awesome God of the Universe. A passion that perfectly ties in to our spiritual giftedness.

With all of this writing and “platform” talk fresh on my mind, I am reminded that there really is a bigger picture in all of this. There is a fine line between wanting to realize a dream, live out a passion, or fulfill a call…and desiring to fill a hole in our self-esteems by craving an endorsement of some kind through what we “do.”

This is dangerous on so many levels.

If we get wrapped up in “what we do” rather than “who we are,” then when the thing “we do” goes away or fails, we left with quite an identity crisis on our hands. No book contract = not good enough. Kids go astray = bad parent. Husband gets involved with another woman = don’t measure up. Friendship breaks up = failed as a friend.

If our motive (however slight it might be) for writing or teaching or speaking is to build our self-esteem or find significance in a status or task, (or to become the next Beth Moore) then what happens when/if that falls through or never even materializes at all? What happens when a platform goes defunct or our worldly popularity fades or we aren’t able to sell enough books to meet a quota? What happens if we are overlooked by a publisher or have to relinquish another role we love or are rejected on some other level in life?

I am not pointing the finger, girls, except at me. And this is not just about book writing, by the way.

In a strange way this ties into our fears. It’s a paradox, of sorts. It’s like we fear being used by God on His terms, yet we fear NOT being used by God equally as much, if not more.

In my life, my fears of speaking have at times caused me to live in a place of mediocrity. Those who know me well know that my first love is writing, and my preference is to stay in my fuzzy slippers and write my soul out late at night while the house sleeps. But while God cares about my “preferences,” He is not at all influenced by them. (Good thing for me since He is so much smarter than I am!) He has a plan for me, and my responsibility is to embrace those plans, no matter if they are currently preferred by me. This is the same for you, whatever your circumstance is. It’s that obedience word, ladies.

Some of my preferences come from how I’m hard wired. But some of them come from my fears and those nagging whispers in my ear.

…you know you don’t like to speak.
…you know you aren’t a Priscilla or a Beth.
…you know if you get up and speak everyone will know you are a fraud.
…you know they expect you to know all there is to know about the Bible since you went to seminary.
…you are better off staying at home where you love to be.
…your kids will not be well taken care of if you go speak somewhere.
…you will be embarrassed and humiliated if you speak. Let someone else do it.
…you know they wouldn’t listen to you if they knew you weren’t perfect.

He’s a slippery one, that Satan. You’d think by now, I would be able to hear his hiss in the “whispers.” But even after all this time, I sometimes still fall for the lies and manipulations.

It reminds me so much of a conversation I had just last night with my 5-year old daughter. Making her way into my office, she sought me out for comfort after having an interaction with my 7-year old son. Our conversation is so applicable here, I just don’t see it as coincidental, and I need to share it…

Shae: Micah says that if I accidentally press “new game” on his Gameboy and not “load game,” he’s going to destroy me.

Me: (laughing) Oh, sweetie. That’s silly. How will he destroy you?

Shae: (cute) Because he’s strong and I’m puny.

Me: He’s bluffing, Shae. He can’t destroy you, and he knows it. He just wants you to think he can so you won’t play his Gameboy anymore. Tell him I said to stop saying mean things that make you scared.

Oh, wow. Speaking of fear tactics. This might as well be a conversation between me and God about Satan’s empty threats against me. Though I know he is bluffing, he still has his moments when he gets to me. And I still sometimes believe that what he is saying about my worth as a person needs to be wrapped up in what I am doing.

In life…in books…in general.

What about you?

I don’t know who this message is for. Maybe it’s just for me. But whoever it’s for, God has prompted it and sent this self-professed planner into wing-it mode. It’s not a position I like. But then again, when does giving up control feel good?

Fly today, friends. Far away from your fears and from “doing.” Concentrate on “being.”

Lisa