Monday, August 4, 2014

An Honest Reflection

I think for some people transitions and growth just happen to them and they don’t really flinch or notice changes, because they are highly adaptable people who thrive on challenges and inhale energy the way that I thrive on complacency and inhale inertness. I might be wrong. Maybe everyone deals with all sorts of inner turmoil in every new phase of their life. Maybe everyone else just makes it look easy. I don’t know.

But I know this: I am not, by nature, an ambitious person. 

I remember when I was a little girl, I had a propensity toward certain things, but I was always too anxious about failure or vulnerability to practice or perfect those things. I didn’t want to seek affirmation in any way, because that meant putting it all on the line and risking exposure. Vulnerability is kind of my kryptonite; it often stops me from progression. I didn’t excel at any one area in particular in my past because I put more effort in appearing effortless and indifferent than just doing the work of becoming really great at something. No one thing ever became “my thing”, because I didn’t dedicate myself to anything. 
School? I enjoyed the subjects that were naturally easy for me, hated everything else, and didn’t learn what it was like to really apply myself to studying, and then succeeding, until college. I didn’t care until I was older, I was paying for it, and it mattered more to me. 
Sports? I enjoyed it when I was young enough that winning wasn’t the most important thing, and the coach’s main strategy was to get us to pay attention or not pick our noses on the field. As the game got more intense, I thrived on the high notes and got really bummed out when I could tell I didn’t play hard enough. I did try, but I never cared enough to keep going. When my friends’ passion for competing and winning began outgrowing my own, I decided my time as a softball player was over. I didn’t ever try to be good at any other sports, because competition did not come naturally for me. I never looked back.
Creativity? I loved imagining, altering things, and making things. I remember spending hours and hours on my own, just pretending and thinking, never once feeling lonely. I could be uninhibited when I was on my own doing something creative, and that is honestly when I thrived the most. There were no inward or outward competitions; it was natural for me. But I was conservative with my creative tendencies. I refused to try too hard, I didn’t try to push myself further, I just sort of coasted along with whatever skills I could muster up at any given time. In my mind, practicing would mean risking not actually getting better, and just thinking I was better than I actually was. It did not mean nearing perfection.
Relationships? As long as I didn't have to put a lot of effort in, I enjoyed my friendships. As long as I was being cared about without needing to expose my own feelings, I would "allow" people to be in my life. If it seemed fun, organic, and exciting to get to know someone, I wanted in on it. When it got more tricky, I would passively drift on to the next friend who would temporarily satiate my need for companionship without them getting past the walls guarding my insecurities. I guarded those walls more protectively than I guarded my friendships. I suffered from it, friends suffered from it, and I was not good at being relational.

These are just a few examples of my weak areas. I’m not being modest or humble. I really was a scared, insecure, little girl. And I am still so much like that scared, little girl. As a teenager, I was pretty introspective and withdrawn at times, and sometimes I was okay. I was just a really awkward person. I had friends, I did fun things, but I felt awkward all the time. As an adult, that internal struggle has carried over into other areas. I can be indecisive, I can be noncommittal, I can be lethargic about changes, I can be stubbornly independent, I can be anti-social, and I can most certainly lack confidence and fear vulnerability. These are the things that come to me naturally. It is organic for me to just drift in the midst of these weaknesses; to be apathetic about the why’s or how’s of my life and my relationships.

All of this information from my past is why I do not understand how I have my feet so firmly grounded right now. An honest reflection of my natural tendencies would not show THIS life, this calmness, or this aptitude for optimism. Despite myself, I have chosen the harder path in at least a few areas of my life, and I have chosen to push myself and will myself to succeed in those areas. I have worked on being pliable with other people, with my circumstances, and with myself. I have learned how to draw on the strengths of others and feel confident about my own strengths. (I have learned what strengths I have.) I have learned how to commit to and face challenges, rather than withdraw from them. I have developed an ability to know when to be fiercely relational rather than seclude myself with my anti-socialness. I now know that loyalty and authenticity will reach others without needing to make myself feel awkward and exposed. I have discovered that vulnerability, while still terrifying at times, is often the precipice holding me back just before greatness is reached. I can make decisions now that I never could have fathomed making when I was younger. I guess I could just attribute all of it to me growing up and being an adult. But I see more in my life than just growing up.

This is not just about maturity; it’s about spiritual life. It's an alive-ness that is overwhelming even before it has reached its full potential. I'm not finished yet, but I can tell something is very different now than how it was before, and I believe I'm still being made new. I'm not perfect in any way, I still have weaknesses, but I'm so much more alive and well now.

I know that without God’s grace, through Christ’s gift, using the Holy Spirit’s power to modify me, I would not be so firmly grounded and in touch with these strengths. In fact, I wouldn’t even have these strengths. Maybe someone reading this doesn’t believe in God or in his ability to change people’s hearts, but I have tried to look at my life and my heart with other lenses, for sure, and God’s grace honestly is just the most likely explanation for all that I am, and all that I hope for. I was being changed before I was an adult, before I practiced maturity. It was not my own doing. If you ever see anything good in me, please know that it comes from God.

One of my favorite quotes ever describes this process of being changed:

"This is the glory and miracle of grace, that God, through the Holy Spirit, is able to transform a stubborn, rebellious, and unbelieving will into a passionate, obedient, believing will without violating the integrity of the individual or diminishing the voluntary nature of one's decision to trust Christ for salvation." -Sam Storms

It was voluntary, I chose to welcome God in my life, but it was out of my hands as to how and when he would be working in me.

The past few years have been full of transitions bigger than anything before, yet I know that bigger transitions are coming. I’m thinking about all of this because I read a blog about questions to ask myself when life is changing. And I started thinking about how far I’ve come, and how much work I have ahead. It scares me, but I also feel more hopeful than ever. It’s an eager hope, anticipation. More than willingness, it’s readiness, like I’m being prepared for it.

I’ll be writing a blog soon with my answers to the questions. But in the meantime, think about your answers.