So recently -- within the last week -- I've had a couple opportunities to be in the company of women who are clearly more beautiful, intelligent or accomplished than I.
Frankly, it's intimidating. All my insecurities start buzzing around my head like gnats, and they all sing this kind of refrain:
"You're kinda plain."
"She won't want to hang out with you."
"You won't have anything smart enough to say. She'd rather hang out with more impressive folk."
"She'll take one look at your house and see that three kids and a dog occupy it pretty much ALL THE TIME."
"What if there's spinach stuck in your teeth the entire time she's looking at you?"
I'm just being brutally honest here.
I forget that I have yet to meet a woman who never feels insecure; in fact, admissions of insecurity have sometimes reached my ears from the most surprising of mouths.
But while the gnats hummed softly, this morning I read our selection from the Egermeier's Bible Story Book with the children. In it, Jesus, anticipating his pending crucifixion, prays, "Father, glorify Your name."
And isn't that the crux of the issue right there? Those buzzing gnats find voice because secretly, I hope to glorify my OWN name. I want glory -- admiration, approval, affection -- and I'd like it in spades, please.
What if all I cared about was that my Father's name be glorified, lifted up, admired and approved? What if His was the only smile that mattered? What if I saw people as He sees them, without preference, without undue regard for glamour or resumé? What if I truly accepted His unconditional love? Could I, in the words of a speaker I once heard address these things, "be who I am until I'm different?"
One baby step at a time, I hope to find out one of these days.