How to Have Joy in Who You Are
This week during an especially tortuous business meeting, I managed --- just barely withholding some choice vocabulary --- to inform a troublesome participant that I was not willing to proceed with the meeting if she persisted in her passive- aggressive maneuvering. With icy calm politeness I informed her that no such drama would be tolerated. Period.
Looking back on my behavior I was proud and satisfied that, at last, I understood who I was and was not afraid to act like it. In my younger days I would have endured such bad behavior because I was too “nice” and did not want to offend someone or have someone not like me. Being treated so roughly, however, caused me no small amount of insecurity and despair. One of the refreshing things about maturity is coming to realize your own worth and what behavior of others you are not obligated to tolerate.
Zig Ziglar’s recent Facebook post said it this way: “Don’t be afraid of losing people. Be afraid of losing yourself by trying to please everyone around you.”
Eleanor Roosevelt also reminded us of the futility of people-pleasing: “You wouldn’t worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do.”
Becoming aware of one’s worth can sometimes require years of lessons about boundaries and the hard, hard truth that you won’t be able to please people all of the time. Eventually you learn that pleasing people is not the ultimate goal of life --- pleasing God, the One who created you, is the only genuine goal.
You are here on purpose.
The Bible tells us that each of us is special, unique, and loved by our Creator. “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous --- how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! (Psalm 139: 13-18a)
I was scrolling through the Google news headlines one day and was astounded to find in the headlines a photograph of myself. … Only it was not, in actuality, my own image that stared back at me --- it was another woman who could have been my twin! How disconcerting is that?? (Fortunately, the article was a boring discussion of certain social security regulations and not something salacious!) I also am aware of at least 5 other women who have my same exact name.
Yet even if there are others who look just like me or who have the same name, God tells me that He has personally overseen my construction and every moment of the time I will spend here on earth. Even in the midst of all those other Sherrys and doppelgangers, God thought that I was needed here and He has a purpose for me. As Pastor Zack Van Dyke used to say “God had a reason when He thought you up.” It seems only right and proper then that I seek God’s face and determine what my mission is. What am I here to do that all those other Sherrys are not? To ignore such a noble assignment seems insulting God.
I am brought to the concept that it is legitimate, even necessary, to have joy in who I am. Just think: I was specifically created and, therefore, must have specific God-given attributes that He thought were necessary in the world at this time. To paraphrase a multitude of Facebook memes, the same God that thought the world needed flowers, puppies, and chocolate believed that the world needed a “me.” I love that idea. When I am feeling overlooked or disregarded, I can hold on to the knowledge that I was intended. I matter.
Don’t lose yourself. Find yourself.
Being on a quest to complete my assignment here on earth requires close communing with God in order to know what He desires of me. Just as a soldier is evaluated and included in a specific mission based on his qualifications, education, training, strengths and abilities, God chooses each of us in the same way. I may not be the best singer in the world, but if you are in despair and need a good listener and some encouragement, I may be the right one to sit with you and let you cry on my shoulder. I am horrible at mathematics, but if you need someone to write an article for your website, a letter of commendation or complaint, a contract, or a funeral eulogy --- I’m the one you’re likely to call.
So when I think about the truths that I don’t have to conform to the world’s standards and ideas, and that I am meant to recognize and utilize what attributes God has bestowed on me, I get to relax and enjoy who I really am. I am on a journey to discover all my gifts and how I am supposed to use them. I must endeavor to maximize what I have to work with … and remember I get to enjoy my own special specialness.
Whew! What a revelation! I can be free of the self-imposed duties of fitting in with the world’s expectations. I can decline to participate in needless striving, over-scheduling, multi-tasking, and the general frantic busyness of 24/7 accessibility. I can choose to limit my focus to God things. Me things, as designed and intended by God.
I plan to enjoy my life instead of merely enduring it. Knowing that I am special and specially-selected by God provides me joy. I can revel in my uniqueness. For example, I am now, after so many years, okay with my general nerdiness. I am quite comfortable with being an introvert and no longer feel compelled to involve myself with activities that distress and drain me in order to “fit in.” I am not a French chef, but I can cook a fine meal. I am tenderhearted and kind. I have a great vocabulary, can play a wicked game of Scrabble, and can correctly use the words transmogrification and vomitorium in a sentence. (Very useful skills for cocktail party conversations don’t you know.) I accept that I am not graceful and, as stated in other essays, I have yet to acquire the skill of correctly folding a fitted sheet. My family’s underthings have never been ironed. Visitors to my home will undoubtedly find undusted surfaces and possibly a cobweb or two, but they will be warmly welcomed, fed, and catered to with hospitality. Serving a terrific blackberry cobbler is more important to me than washing windows.
“None of us are [sic] getting out of here alive, so please stop treating yourself like an after thought. Eat the delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth that you’re carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.”
Anthony Hopkins.
Life is good and my role in this life is a lovely thing, a gift from God. I intend to enjoy it and enjoy me, as an honor to the God that made me.
Thoughts:
What makes you special?
How does God want you to use your specialness?