Want to hear a funny joke? Comparison.
(There's no punchline.)
I closed my iPad several days ago and leaned forward onto the wiggly cafe table I called my afternoon workspace, steepling my fingers in front of my mouth. One of my squad-mates had just bravely told me that the reason she had stopped posting blogs was because...of me.
Or, rather, due to fear of being compared to me.
Last month, my squadmate Tabitha also posted a blog along similar lines.
I read Lindsay's messages over and over before clicking to her blog, titled I Am Not Kayla Zilch. Minutes ticked by, and it wasn't long before comments started trickling in: first from mutual friends, then a reader of mine, then the World Race CEO himself.
Reading their confessions and feedback, I was overwhelmed with love for them. And then my heart began to ache.
I felt like I was reading about a version of myself I'd never encountered before: some weird clone of the actual Kayla, who wrote her internet graffiti with one hand on the keyboard and the other swirling a glass of rosè, sighing out metaphors. Her words, though well-received, had somehow become a measuring stick fellow Racers believed they were falling short of.
But that's not what made me angry.
I was angry that Satan had been working so hard to use a gift we each had as a means to divide us.
Satan is one lazy son of a gun, you guys. If he can stir up chaos within the body of Christ by causing us to compare, you can bet he will. All it takes is one lie: you're not good enough, for us to start judging one another, talking down to ourselves, and ultimately hiding our giftings away. After this lie takes hold, he can pop a lawn chair and let us destroy one another, without his help.
One of the greatest gifts the World Race has given me is the gift of self. Another word would be confidence. Freedom from shame. Brazenness. This Holy Spirit-induced ability to live a life free of concern has radically influenced my writing, and it's God who gets every scrap of glory for it. I came onto the Race a broken, deeply insecure girl, having never written anything outside of a journal.
But the transformation didn't happen overnight. It was the sum total of every feedback session, every 48 hour travel day, every stomach bug. Every piece of dirty laundry worn just one more time, every day lived with the absence of a mirror. Every reader comment, every morning bent over the Bible instead of a phone, every spontaneous sermon delivered from an African pulpit, every text read and not replied to.
And there have been several times when I myself almost gave up writing out of a sincere belief that I wasn't good enough, or because the person I really wanted to read my words didn't care what I was saying.
If you're reading this right now, can I tell you something that you might desperately need to hear? There will always be someone who doesn't want us.
As a woman who has spent a shameful amount of time trying to convince others I and my giftings are worthy of love, please, never do this. Not only because the act itself is impossible, but because you're better than that.
Acceptance and rejection are deeply factor-based actions. Some people dig our drumbeat, some don't. It's just life. And we are wasting our time trying to engage the few people disinterested in our stories and better off using that fierce, persistent energy to love those people who we never had to ask to show up.
At the end of the day, would you rather rest knowing that the people in your corner got there without any persuasion on your part? Or would you rather have a trophy case full of hearts you managed to steal, but only after months of dedication, haircuts and perfectly timed humour?
1 Peter 4:10 says, "Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms."
Grace in various forms.
Tabitha bears God's grace in her ability to speak to a situation not for what it is, but for what it could be. She's a dreamer, but one of those rare people who is also a doer. Her mind considers all parts of a story before coming up with a solution. The world needs to hear her voice.
Lindsay embodies the gift of speaking the truth in love. In a backwards world where love and truth are often pitted as enemies, Lindsay brings them together by challenging people out of a real desire to see them climb a little higher. I've crossed mountains with her by my side. The world needs to hear her voice.
So now I'm talking to you.
If there is something you love to do, please, for goodness sake - do it. If you want to write, write. If you dance, dance. If you feel called to become a cupcake maker or engineer or a certified clown, do it with all your heart.
It doesn't matter if you're "good enough". The very act of bearing a talent eliminates the need for a prerequisite or a permission slip. You're in. You've already been deemed "good enough" by the Creator Himself. He's waiting to see what you will do with the piece of Himself he's trusted you with.
We need to hear your voice.
What is it you want to say?