[The first couple paragraphs were written months ago, but quickly got sucked into the stresses of moving, new job, etc. So I'm back.]
If indolence was an achievement, my mantle would be crowded with the crowns, statuettes and medals of one who’s virtually made a career out of insecure resignation and incomplete projects.
This post is a sort of public examination of my writer’s conscience and apology for giving much less than I am able to. It took me a decade to realize–more than superficially–that I am smart. In all honesty (which is what humility is) I am really smart, and I have been given a suitcase full of talents and gifts on this little journey I’m on. But more or less for my whole life (there are a few exceptions), I’ve stashed my bag ‘o gifts under the bed where my will has been napping for decades.
I’ve always struggled with this sanguine tendency to be ultra passionate in the moment, which dies quickly once removed from the fire. Faced with a fabulous person, an interesting topic, or stimulating topic or conversation, I immerse myself. Then…..
Though I’ve been aware of this tension between my promise and my actual performance–I’ve labeled myself a consummate failure for years–it was really this past winter and spring (Lent in particular) when I finally read Lukewarmness: The Devil in Disguise, that I realized how seriously I’ve not lived my capacity for great things. Under the guise of forgiving myself for my humanity, I’ve ceded the struggle for holiness. This simple but striking book about how little compromises in the everyday lead to calamity for the soul and the beneficiaries of our God-given gifts was a real cause for examination of conscience.
Now you may think I’m being too hard on myself, but that’s probably because you don’t know me extremely well. Despite my lukewarmness for the better part of five years, God’s used me to do some very cool things for his glory. However, that doesn’t mean I’ve been as faithful to my interior life and hard-working as I could be, does it? No.
So, to my God I’ve apologized. To my past employers I apologize. To my friends and colleagues, I apologize. To all those who’ve invited me to write for them, I apologize for rarely or not delivering altogether. (Right Strat? Right, Joseph? Right Christina?) For the latter I am particularly contrite, because I’ve come to realize that not only do I love to write, but that I am called to write. I have a seed of artistry in me, which has been poorly sewn and stewarded for several years.
So, as I begin a new journey and challenge as small school administrator in rural Wyoming, pray that I will remember the gift within me, the call to cultivate it, and the imperative to persevere and to finish what I’ve begun. The Lord will bring to completion what He’s begun in me (Phil 1.6), and I only pray I can be faithful in the present moment, always moving forward.
Faithful blog readers and friends, thank you for your words and messages of encouragement in these last months of silence. Stay tuned for more….
16 Responses to Less Than, Greater Than
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Jess, glad you are back. And thank you for this post. I have had the same struggles all my adult life and have also called myself a consummate failure (as you put it). No wonder I feel we are kindred spirits!
Thanks, Sarah! Missing you (online and in real life), too. I highly recommend the book I mentioned. Did I give you a copy? You can borrow it next time we’re in town!
I’m so glad you’re back! I think this is a wonderfully honest post that encourages reflection on my own part.
Our gifts, our insecurities, the role of a chance in our lives – there’s so much food for thought… Most of us just wait for THE moment, when everything will change, when we’ll get to do what we were born for, when we’ll shine. And how can we describe the bitterness of the disappointment when the moment never comes. But it’s in our power to shape our lives the way we want, to add some missing details to live in full. I like how you say “I’ve stashed my bag ‘o gifts under the bed” – because so many of us are guilty of the same waste. Your writing can inspire so many people – and get yourself inspired too!
Just wanted to join in with the others to say that I am glad that you are back. And I think that forgiving oneself for being human does not need to mean that one does not still try to be the very best person that one can be. So, while I don’t know you well enough to know whether you’re being too hard on yourself, I do know that in areas other than writing I share the struggle you describe. Onward and upward!
So, you’re in Wyoming now, administering a school?
Good luck to you. I was floored when you lost your job directing NFP. My own was pretty new. I was so scared for so long that I would lose mine due to budget cuts. I cannot imagine a better job for you–considering your passion for NFP and the fact that you are so smart!!
I have the same struggles you mentioned, and I call myself a failure often. It is primarily, I think, b/c I am an overachiever. I heard an excellent talk the other day by Matthew Kelly, about being the best version of yourself, and how it is a deception of the devil to give into this temptation–we are temples of the Spirit and should not deride ourselves like this. There is some truth to the frustration though–or this restlessness that St. Augustine describes. It helps us to prioritize, find our vocations,etc. But, I’ve learned, there will always be struggles. The time will never be perfect, and we just have to do the best we can.
So glad you are back! I love your blogs, they are full of passion, good information and a wonderful perspective. Thanks for your candor!
“To whom much is given, much is expected.” I feel the same way too. I am much too hard on myself, but at the same time, I know I realistically could do much, much more with even minimal effort. At least you pick yourself up!
Glad to have you back and looking forward to more posts!
And Wyoming? You moved again! No wonder you’ve been busy!
Thanks, E, for your support. Being a grad student sort of requires a harder work ethic, no? I’m about to become one, and perhaps it’ll be the butt-kicking I need (in addition to my immensely challenging job).
Well said, Lauren. I seem to have been waiting for something–so true. How did ten years pass while I was waiting to become the best version of myself? Living in the present moment and perseverance is key, I think.
Thank you, Rae! Thanks for keeping in touch despite the long silence. You’re right that forgiving oneself for being human is good (as not being forgiving enough is the vice of scrupulosity), but I’ve used that as an excuse for laziness, too. Keep writing, and I’ll try to do the same!
Yes, Batrice, I’m sent to the most unexpected places to do the most unexpected things. It’s God’s way with me. Pray for the gift of perseverance for me, though. I should note that I didn’t lose my job as Full time NFP Coordinator. I resigned due to a move for my husband. Due to the recession and consequent layoffs about the same time, they decided not the rehire, and it’s not clear if my position would’ve been cut had I not resigned. My boss was a huge lobbyist for the NFP apostolate, so he insists I might not have been laid off. Either way, due to his perseverance, a friend of mine (with an MTS from the JPII Institute for Marriage & Family) is now the part time NFP Coordinator, and is doing great things, including handing out the “Go Organic” Brochures at the local farmer’s market!
How true about struggle. Struggle is healthy, and disappointment is a matter of course, but pray that my struggle and restlessness would be fruitful and ultimately rest in God.
You’re welcome, Margaret. Thanks for hanging in there!
Yes, Wyoming. It’s been such a year, but we feel really glad and happy to be in Wyoming, despite the initial dread (I’m a city person). People here are extremely welcoming, and despite the small town melodrama that finds its way into parishes and communities (a fav line from the movie Elizabethtown, “People here have nothing better to do than get offended over something small and hang on to it for fifty years” rings true), it’s a wonderful place to live when I’m not burning myself out over the new job.
Thanks for your readership, Alison.
Jess — So glad to see you’re back! This is such a great post, and there are definitely many, many times I have felt the same. And recognizing the problem is only half the battle; you still have to constantly remind yourself and build up the stamina to put all of your talents to use, because otherwise it’s so easy to slip back into doing “well enough.”
But I was really glad to hear from you and know that you’re doing well. Congratulations on the job, good luck on school, and I’ll be back to checking this blog on a regular basis again now that I know I’ll have the satisfaction of seeing it updated more often!