Middle school was created for the awkward.
I stood a head taller than my classmates and my gangly-long limbs were as coordinated as a newborn foal. It was in this spectacular petri-dish of “pre-teen” wonder that I summoned the courage to try out for our summer–school play.
Contrary to my outward appearance, my inner 12 year old mind had visions of fame and stardom dancing amidst bright theater lights. Unphased by wise–cracking naysayers, I belted out show tunes and recited movie lines for my audition. To the utter shock of my baffled family, I won the role of Cinderella. It was a grand tally mark of accomplishment for my pre-adolescent self. My career was finally off and running.
I define confidence as this quiet–inner knowledge that we are capable. In the ensuing days leading up to the big night, my inner voice poured bravery into my veins and whispered loudly, “You’ve got this!” and so I believed.
All summer long I sang my 5 solo songs out loud and proud, until my sisters were throwing poison darts at me. I practiced my lines in the mirror and prepared for the coming greatness. Mimicking the elegant flow of the waltz, I danced on my private ballroom stage with my “imaginary prince”. Come show time I was ready. I had done my homework and I knew what I needed to do.
I was CONFIDENT.
In the sweltering heat of this particular August evening, the small auditorium was packed. My entire family filled the first row. Eager parents, grandparents, siblings and borrowed kids from our neighborhood all sat waiting for my big debut. The red velvet curtains pulled back inviting the show to begin. In all honesty it went quite well. No long empty pauses while someone forgot their lines, no wardrobe malfunctions, no trip and falls, all in all an ordinary middle school play.
That is until IT happened.
Out of the corner of my eye came my long awaited prince. As we had rehearsed a hundred times, I cranked out my solo at the top of my lungs, “Someday my prince will come …” Falling dramatically into each other’s arms we began our waltz around the stage. It was here that the great casting faux pas became glaringly obvious.
It started quietly like the gentle rumble of thunder from somewhere far off in the distance. The more I sang the louder it became. Rolling from the back of the auditorium it gained momentum washing over the front row where my family sat then landing on the stage.
Now my dad was a tall man standing a solid six foot eight. His legendary laugh was as deep as his height and terribly contagious. When the sound of his laughter reached my ears I looked out into the audience and saw that everyone had definitely caught what he was unwittingly dishing out.
What should have been the two of us gazing deeply into one another’s eyes, was instead a comedy of mismatched heights. I was a full grown five feet ten inches tall – my prince was still awaiting his growth spurt. As we danced about completely absorbed in our roles, my eyes looked out far above his head into the bellowing crowd. His eyes settled deeply into my belly button. The roar of laughter had reached an unrestrained howl.
In my adult mind, I now admit that it must have been a comedic scene. Making those in the audience reminisce over their own middle school memories of awkwardness. However for me, in that moment my heart melted into a mucky blob of inconsolable stage fright.
It was at this precise moment that I was introduced to the difference between CONFIDENCE and WORTH. One most decidedly sabotaged the other in the center of that hot August stage in 1980. It was here in my twelfth year of life that I resolved to stay quiet, to reside in the small corner of things I do well and NEVER put myself out there like that again.
Has this ever happened to you? You’ve prepared for a big life event. You feel the confidence that comes from your hard work and dedication. You hold your head high as you walk onto life’s stage and then it hits you.
You’re not worth it. Comparison sets in. The people in the audience are bigger, more experienced, more powerful than you. You know down deep you’re not enough. You don’t deserve to be in the room with this class of people. Right then and there your CONFIDENCE is wrestled to the ground by your lack of worth.
My friend I want to present to you how I finally got up and raised a hand in victory over this whole battle of worth. The big disclaimer is my solution does not meet the modern culture version of just truly believing that you’re worth it and so it will come to pass. You are welcome to completely disregard what I’m about to say, but I remain undeterred. It has become the basis for my life’s story.
The piece of the puzzle that I was missing was that unlike confidence, you can’t fake-it-until-you make-it with worth, it runs so much deeper than that. The gnawing ache of inadequacy that ran laps around my soul was at its core not a question of worth but of value.
I’ve come to understand value from a business perspective. In the marketplace, an item’s value is determined by what someone is willing to pay for it. I’ve seen that in my real estate business. When a seller puts a house on the market they may have an inflated idea of its worth, but in the end its value is determined by what the buyer is willing to pay.
…and so it is with my life. I fought with this idea of worth for five decades. When I looked directly at myself in the mirror, I saw my failures glaring back at me. I heard the laughter from the world’s stage and no matter what I accomplished, my value was tied up in the currency of acceptance.
…but then I allowed God to enter my stage. He knew my worth from the beginning of time. My soul was purchased along with yours for way-over-asking. Our value forever determined by the ultimate price paid through his perfect son, Jesus Christ. The negotiation was firm and final. Jesus even said from the cross, “It is finished.” My worth is known and will never be forgotten, it is a sum I could never repay except in the complete and total surrender of my life to God. I am worth it because when my heavenly father looks down on me, he sees his perfect son residing deep within my soul and it is GOOD! He has put such a beautiful new song in my mouth and tells me to go dance and sing and speak with confidence on our world’s stage. He created us for this!
I no longer need to question my worth. When I walk into a room, I simply see people who need a smile, a word of encouragement, who need hope in a crazy mixed-up world, no matter what their station in life. God is calling us to bring it to them, because we are worth it.
The question is will we resign ourselves to continue to doubt our worth or will we answer the call with confidence?
