I'm a loser...and I'm done fighting it

I'm going to tell an embarrassing story that will make you think I'm ridiculous and immature. Both descriptions are definitely true. But my ridiculous problem clued me in to some deeper issues and made me realize this: a) I'm a loser, and b) I'm done fighting it.


MY RIDICULOUS PROBLEM
Recently I found out Monday night salsa dancing was going to be canceled. Now, for the past 7 years, I've spent every Monday night salsa dancing...and loving it. On the dance floor, the true Jill shines through. (Well, when the hair is out of the way.)

So when I found out it was ending for good, sadness would have been a normal reaction. But I didn't experience just sadness; I experienced PANIC.

Why did I panic? Well, I'd been planning to quit my Monday night volleyball league at the end of the season because it's no fun. But I realized...if I don't have salsa OR volleyball on Monday nights, that means I won't have any planned activities!!! That's where the panic entered in. Free time is not an option in my book. But how was I going to fill my time without volleyball or salsa??? My mind raced as I brainstormed "Ways to Spend a Monday Night," but I couldn't think of anything.

Regretfully I figured I'd better continue playing volleyball. I didn't WANT to, but I didn't seem to have any other option. See, the voices in my head kept saying, "If you sit at home by yourself, you're a loser."


MY RIDICULOUS BELIEF
Now, in Jill World, this is a persuasive argument because I've spent most of my life thinking I'm a loser...and yet desperately trying to prove I wasn't. Growing up, I was a quiet person in a world that values charisma; an ugly duckling in a world that values beauty; a deep thinker in a world that values sound bites. I spent most of my life not fitting in, so the implicit message I received was that there was something wrong with me. I tried to compensate for my lack of social prowess by being really, really good at everything else I did. That helped...but deep down I always knew I didn't measure up. Visual evidence:

This judgment was solidified during college when my hallmate Jessica told me, "If a person doesn't already have friends, then I don't want to be their friend because there must be something wrong with them." Ouch! That stuck with me because I DIDN'T have friends...and I'd always worried that this was the reason - that there was something wrong with me; that I was a loser who didn't deserve friends. Jessica validated that fear.

Basically, what I internalized was this:

• If, at any moment, people aren't choosing me, it's proof that I'm not worthy of being chosen. 
• If there's ever a moment when I have nothing to do but sit by myself, then I'm a loser.

And I soooooo don't want to be a loser. But since I've never been good at attracting people or getting them to choose me, I decided from then on, I'd better not EVER waste an opportunity to get "chosen." I'd better do whatever it takes to always have friends so that others will think I'm worthy of being their friend. And that is what led to my irrational present-day PANIC when salsa was canceled and it looked like I'd have to sit by myself every Monday night and wallow in my unworthiness. My real panic was not about salsa, but about the fact that my loser-ness was going to be revealed.


MY RIDICULOUS CONVERSATION
As I pondered this, it occurred to me, "Jill, you've been saying you want to set aside more time to spend with God. Monday nights are a perfect opportunity!" But my immediate reaction to that idea was, "But...but...but...then I'll be a loser." As I thought it, I realized how lame it was. My rejection of God clued me in to the possibility of deeper spiritual issues, so I tried to listen to what he might be saying.

It seemed he was saying this: "Jill, you don't need to fill all your time in a desperate quest to prove your worthiness. I want you to trust me by quitting your Monday night team - even without a plan for how you'll fill your time. Maybe I have something I want you to do during that time! In the meantime, why don't you spend your Monday nights with me? I choose you. I always choose you. Isn't that enough?"

I know it should have been comforting to hear God say he chose me, but honestly, my heart just sank when I heard it...because to me, God's request was a death sentence. To obey him would lead to permanent loser-dom. Why would he want that for me?


MY RIDICULOUS OVERSIGHT
At first I tried to downplay the whole conversation as something I made up. After all, surely God wouldn't call me to be a loser! But suddenly I remembered numerous instances when God's instructions made me look like a loser:

• I used to attend a group where no one noticed I existed. I'd get so frustrated every week, trying to make people notice me! Then God said, "Your purpose here is to make OTHERS feel special; not to get yourself noticed." That was so hard, because only losers are completely ignored!

• When my closest friend decided I was no longer worthy of her time or interest, I wanted to reject her right back. But God said, "No, your job is to love her, regardless of how she's treating you." But that was SO HARD because if I appeared desperate and needy, I'd be a loser!

• I had a co-worker who laughed at things that weren't funny...like she'd say, "I'm going to eat lunch," and then nearly die laughing. I deliberately refused to laugh with her because I felt it was my job to teach her appropriate times to laugh. But one day God said, "Why can't you just laugh with her...not because you think it's funny, but just to make her feel good?" But that was really hard because if I laughed at unfunny things like she did, I'd be a loser, too!

• Or here's a big one...when I was a teacher, I was pretty sure God wanted me to quit my career. But my identity and self-worth were based on being a fantastic teacher! If I quit teaching, then I wouldn't have anything to prove I was worthwhile. If I wasn't a teacher, I'd be a loser!

I could go on and on with these examples, and my list prompted me to ask God, "Are you aware that you continually ask me to be a loser???" I thought about this for days, during which I read the Gospel of Matthew. In that book, I saw such a pattern among Jesus' words that it suddenly occurred to me that I was asking the wrong question! The question I should have been asking was this: "Why am I so surprised that he's asking me to be a loser?"

After all, Jesus came right out and SAID that in order to follow him, you have to be a loser. If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. (Matt 16:24-25) In fact, he said similar things at least 7 times in the book of Matthew alone. (10:37-39, 19:21, 19:30, 20:16, 20:26-27, 23:11-12) Clearly, Jesus wasn't hiding this in the fine print! So why in the world does it shock me each time he tells me to do something that will make me a loser?! I don't know.

But what I do know is that my ridiculous Monday night problem is an example of the kind of thing Jesus means when he tells me to deny myself and lose my life for him. He's telling me to give up all the ways I try to prove my life is worthwhile...all the ways I try to make a name for myself...all the ways I strive to be worthy.

He wants me to stop fighting against being a loser and just accept it.


MY RIDICULOUS FEAR
In my head, I know it would be freeing to just accept being a loser. That would mean the end of my relentless striving to prove myself. That would mean the end of my constant self-examination...the end of my PANIC when activities get canceled or when people reject me...the end of my agreement to let Jessica rule my life! It would be relaxing to know that I could enjoy my time...whether I'm with people or by myself...without constantly worrying about my image. I'd already know I'm a loser, so there'd be no more nail biting and wondering!

In fact, I think that's partly what Jesus means when he says whoever loses his life for me will find it. He knows that my desperate quest against loser-hood isn't abundant life, it's survival. I can only find life and freedom and rest when I'm okay with who I am and not always worried about proving myself.

But honestly, that is really, really scary to me.

I guess I'm worried that if I quit all my running around and allow myself to be seen just for who I am, that I'll be exposed...that it will be clear to God, to me, and to everyone else that there IS something wrong with me...that I'm NOT worthy..that I truly AM a loser (and not just according to Jessica's definition).


MY RIDICULOUS COVER-UP
So why is it that I'm so scared of being revealed as a loser? And why is it that Jesus would be so callous as to constantly expose me? Well, after a lot of reflection, I think it's this:

I am a loser.

It's just not for the reasons I think. Normally I attribute my loser-ness to the fact that I don't fit in with my peers or live up to society's standards. But I think that's all a smokescreen. I think the REAL reason I'm so ashamed of myself goes back to Genesis 3. I'm so ashamed of myself because, like Eve, I've taken center stage in a story that was never supposed to have me in the starring role.

I was supposed to be a supporting character in a story about God. My storyline was supposed to contribute to his greater storyline. The attention was supposed to be focused on him, and the story was supposed to be evaluated by how well his objectives were being fulfilled. But instead, I decided I wanted the role of hero. I wanted to be the main character, and I made God the supporting character. I've made the story all about me...how he contributes to my storyline, how much attention is given to me, how well my objectives are being fulfilled.

I thought the story would be better that way, but in fact, when I got out there on the stage and faced the audience...well, it became clear to me that I'm not equipped to handle that role. And just like Eve, I realized my "nakedness." I was exposed as a fraud in the role I'm playing, and that's why I feel the need to hide and cover myself with "fig leaves." I know I'm a loser - not a hero - so I try to cover it up by having lots of friends and activities, and by being really good at everything I do...like if I gather enough achievements and accolades, maybe I'll prove I can handle this role after all. If I do enough winner-like things, maybe it will show I'm not a loser.

But the fact of the matter is that there aren't enough fig leaves in the world to cover up the fact that I'M NOT GOD. And when I try, it only leads to anxiety, depression, judgmentalism, and irrational panic that I'm going to be exposed.

And I think THAT'S why Jesus tells me to admit I'm a loser and accept it. He wants me to stop trying to play a role I wasn't designed for; stop trying to handle responsibilities I'm not equipped for; stop covering up with fig leaves that will never make me a hero. He tells me to drop my fig leaves and admit I'm a loser - NOT because he's an egotistical maniac who's trying to hold me back - but because he knows I can only flourish when I accept the role I was made for; when I let HIM define my identity instead of trying to do it myself. He tells me to drop my fig leaves because he wants to cover me instead. 

And the way he covers up my loser-ness and shame is by taking it on himself. Phil 2:7 says Jesus made himself a loser. That's crazy...the main character who DOES deserve the starring role willingly becomes a loser so that in God's eyes, I can be seen as a winner. And when I really believe God sees me as a winner, it really doesn't matter anymore what Jessica thinks.

But to accept Jesus' covering means I have to quit all my cover-ups. I have to relinquish the starring role.  I have to admit I'm a loser...and stop fighting it.


MY RIDICULOUS VICTORY
So that's what I did this week. I may be ridiculous and immature, but I can also tell you this...last week through chattering teeth and sweaty palms, in one of my greatest spiritual victories, I chose to drop my fig leaves and accept being a loser. I quit my Monday volleyball team and accepted Jesus' covering instead. But in the future, please don't ask me what I did last Monday night.


Blessed is the one
    whose transgressions are forgiven,
    whose sins are covered.  -- Psalm 32:1

All I need to be complete
  is your love, is your blood
  to cover me.  -- JJ Heller