Andi had an away volleyball game the other day and her team was winning yet again. Her 8th grade team is undefeated and they are killing it this season. I was not paying the greatest attention because the littles are obsessed with the bleachers and they were running up and down them like the wild hyenas they truly are. The 3 of us finally compromised on the very top row of the bleachers while my desire was to sit with the rest of our family on the bottom row. You know compromising with two 2 year olds is a little more yin than yang. Whatever, it’s them telling me where to go and me crying please if you just sit there you can have my phone and all my money and all my gum. You can have anything in the world if you just sit here and let me watch a few minutes of this game.
I’m sure you get the gist. Toddlers are a gift to us. Eat them up.
So we are ahead by a large gap and all of the sudden the other team gets some momentum and one player makes a great play and scores a point. The girl is cute in her reaction, but in my head I was thinking a little over the top for a team sport. It was just one point. Then they have the ball and serve, we get it back to them and this girl makes a great dig and scores again. She then puts her hands over her head like a ballerina and spins and then waves and jumps around like she just won the game.
Then we got the ball back she rotated out and we won. Game over.
Here is what I was thinking as a grown woman sitting high up in the bleachers.
Well she is really annoying and way over the top.
That was a little over dramatic for a team sport.
I couldn’t be able to be her friend.
I’m A GROWN woman. A Grown woman (almost 40, don’t want to talk about it) who loves Jesus and tries to live her life making him proud.
And that was my internal dialogue.
Bothered by my own thoughts I had to dig around at my issue. Where is this stemming from?
I saw her mom and sister in the front row smiling and clapping with her and they looked so genuinely proud of her, why wasn’t that enough? Why isn’t that enough to say, oh I see, that was for them.
That wasn’t enough.
What was my problem?
And it dawned on me. Humility. She showed no signs of being humble. And that bothered me.
I lived my whole life downplaying everything I have ever done and I’m sure ever will do.
It’s never going to be perfect. Anyone can do that. I really didn’t do anything special. I am definitely not that special.
Humility is my jam.
I sat stone faced one day in 9th grade when my teacher wanted me to explain to the class why I was gone for an entire week. She knew where I was, the absence was excused, she wanted me to tell the class. I said nothing. I sat red faced, stone walled. “I was away”. “Where?” “No where”. I know I looked like the biggest brat in that moment but what that teacher was doing to me was excruciating.
I spent the week in St. Maarten modeling for Self magazine. She probably thought I would want to share such an exciting adventure. But she was so wrong. She probably had no idea that I had just recently had an article written about me in the school paper about my modeling career and let’s just say the overwhelming mumbling from my school was “she isn’t that pretty without makeup”. Or how about walking into the courtyard one day to witness a large group of girls using my photo from the article as a target and writing bitch all over it and punching holes in my face. I had never met one of these girls ever in my life. I am sure none of them knew my name prior to the article.
So no Mrs. Felix I would rather be chained and tortured than brag to this class that I was modeling in the Caribbean for the past week.
So when I am humble maybe it’s not a God given trait. Maybe it’s a self preservation coping method.
With the truth giving me a reality left hook I am trying to understand more.
Know me more.
I take pride in my humility. How’s that for messed up? I will cling to those who are humble and shy away from the prideful. Yet here we both are with pride. Mine is just hiding behind humility. And I imagine their humility is hiding behind their prideful mask. Because we are all weak. We all cope in ways we learned to cope.
When you google “verses about humility” you will find a bunch of them. God opposes the prideful and exalts the humble. Most are of this flavor. But where is this humility coming from? If it’s our hearts then that is exactly who he is talking to.
But I am realizing my humility comes from fear and we all know anything that stems from fear is not God given. God is gracious and kind and wants us to take leaps when fear only allows us to take baby steps. God wants me to stand on a ledge and step and not look down. Everything in me is saying no way, I need a safety net, and he says “Dummy! I am your safety net”. And maybe he actually doesn’t call me a dummy.
So my prayer is this, Lord help me work for your good. Let my humility be a gift from you, but help me to see my achievements as gifts from you as well.
And when I see a young girl who got a point for her team, let me celebrate with her. She is yours. Just like me.
Let me teach my kids that yes you need to walk humbly, but also celebrate those gifts that make you shine. Don’t hide your shine! Give that Glory to God!
Let’s be proud of who you made us to be and celebrate that in HIS honor.
Also keep calling me out on my crap so I can dig into why I react the way I react and dig deeper into who I am meant to be.
We are all designed to shine for his glory. Let’s start shining!
** let me say I already feel silly for posting these photos. I have been so brain washed by my fears to never brag about my modeling, but I feel like showing these is a good step in saying yes this was a cool opportunity I had in my life and although I feel a little like Al Bundy reliving his Polk High days I’m still going to post these and shine this light**
|Photos from Self Magazine 1994|