Okay, here's a question: have you ever felt like you're a supporting character in the story of your life? And no, I don't mean the cute Christian ideal of "He must become greater, I must become less." I mean in the story you live out, do you act as "the best friend," or "the manservant/guard/whatever other role tends to be a supporting one?"
Sometimes I feel like I live that way. And I know it may seem silly. I'm the one living my life, yet all I'm doing is trying to fade into the background. In fact, that's often the place I'm most comfortable. Seriously. Let me be the servant, the unseen help, the one no one else usually notices, and I'm happy. Try to bring me into the spotlight, I'll fight tooth and nail. Especially if friends try to bring me out. If my professors praise me in class, I'll admit I like that. And I like birthday gifts. But try to point me out and praise me as a friend and equal, and I'll try to brush it off, put it on someone else's shoulders, spin it back to the praiser ( I'm not even sure that's a word, but it is now), or just reject it outright.
And I easily fade into the background. Just ask my friends. I can disappear in an instant. Sometimes, I like it that way. I consider it "bowing out gracefully," for surely that the heavenly realms have better things to watch than me. And surely my friends will have more fun without me. I know this sounds really ridiculous to you who read this, but it's true. This is what goes through my head, and it does seem true. Now, sometimes this feels rather positive. I don't mean that my friends would be better off without me, a la "It's a Wonderful Life," but rather that my part is done, my lines are finished, and it is my cue to exit center stage. Exit stage, period.
But afterwards, I feel rather terrible, like I'm depriving myself of joy or fun I could have had. But then again, I still wonder if I should have it or whether it is best for me simply to leave. Maybe my sacrifice will be better to be made rather than to hoard something like manna, only to have to decay before my eyes.
And I guess, if I'm honest, I live like a supporting character out of fear. I can be a real brat when I'm in the spotlight. I know it. I have been it and then absolutely hated myself afterward. Just ask my parents about the last real birthday party I had. We went bowling for the first time. I was stupid on so many different levels I shudder to remember myself. And no, not stupid in a cute-kid way, more like a spoiled-brat-who-should-know-better way. The last thing I ever want to do is act that way again.
Then there's the fear of being lifted up. After all, you know what they say. "What goes up must come down." That really scares me. I don't want to be lifted up only to come crashing again to the earth like the wreckage from the space shuttle Columbia. I've done the crash and burn thing, I don't want to go there again. And so, I figure, if I'm never lifted up, I can't be brought down.
Like one professor of mine says, "No pain...no pain!" (As opposed to "No pain, no gain.") If I keep from getting empowered or brought into the spotlight, I'll never have to deal with being humiliated or yanked off the stage. Or have rotten fruit and vegetables or pies thrown at me.
Because of those two factors I hate being thrown into the center of attention, especially if I haven't done anything worthy of it. And I mean I have to do something great to be thrown into the center. Score an interview that's impossible to get, publish something big/break into a market I hadn't gotten into before, or, back in high school, do well on certain tests or projects. Publishing something small or doing, yet another book review gets to be old hat. Or even worse, being thrown into attention for something I didn't really do. One excellent example from this year was the TU Creep. Also known as the bane of my existence!
Now, that may seem harsh, but I have my reasons. I had worked hard that week to write two articles for the Echo, one a news piece for the Taylor University, the other an interview with a big-name band in Christian music for the Arts & Entertainment section. The first was easy, but the second had a lot of drama attached to it. The interview ended up falling through and I had to scramble to write an article for the newspaper because my editor still needed something. I got free tickets to a local concert as a consolation prize from the group and my article still ran in the paper. Friday came around, the paper was published with both of my articles in it and what's the first words I hear directed at me as a claim to fame?
"Dude! You're on the TU Creep!"
The TU Creep, for those who don't know, is a blog site that some idiot set up to take random pictures of people all across campus. I had been on it before, so hearing I was there was no big deal. But then I found out they had put me on a second time. This was a new picture taken of me that the guys at my table were wigging out about. I didn't get praise for being in the Echo TWICE. I didn't receive praise for writing an article involving a big name band. I got praised because a stalker that has no taste, too much time on their hands and a lack of propriety decided to put up my picture twice in the same blog for no discernible reason.
I was steamed. (For my non-American readers, that means I was furious.)
Now, my close friends who knew I had done those articles told me I had done a good job. But the fact that I was famous at my floor table in the DC for being creeped on made a bitter impression on me. Needless to say, when the site for the TU Creep was accidentally blocked for a few hours, and caused massive uproar across campus, I was not sad in the slightest to see it go. In fact, I had to restrain myself from breaking the LTC and doing a jig in my room.
And now, one of my friends likes to point out that failed interview as something impressive I have done, and so pull me into the spotlight around his friends and our fellow Pro-Writing majors. I get reeeeeeaally annoyed at that. Call me a bit conservative, but a failure to land an interview and cobbling together an article from scratch within twenty-four hours to cover for it does not count as a success in my book. it still counts as a massive failure. Nor does it count as the mark of a professional (something else this friend likes to tell me but really strikes me as incredibly wrong in every sense of the word). It counts as the mark of someone who needs to get his act together. At least, it is in my opinion.
To top off the problem, I like living there because sometimes it brings me the greatest satisfaction. Knowing my sacrifice has helped someone else enjoy something is worth it in my eyes. Whether that's doing dishes, cooking food, or giving someone else the last of the Wodfamchocsod and having none myself. And I like to do it alone. It's easier to make sacrifices if I'm the only one who notices it. And I like it that way. I don't want to be lauded when I sacrifice something. I'd even rather keep it secret. Again, possibly because I grew up thinking that it's better to be that way. After all, Jesus talked about storing up treasures in heaven and giving not being something done for someone else to praise, like the Pharisees did. Which then makes me question whether I do it out of a pure heart or to be praised anyway for a "humble" spirit.
Whoever knew humility could be so tough?
So, how do I quit living as a supporting character in my own life story? Seriously?
I wish I had answers but, if I did, I wouldn't be writing this blog. Rather I'm trying to explain myself, but..... I'm also trying to find answers. Not as easy as I wish it was. Figuring out what the meow is wrong with me? That's easy. Finding a solution? Not so much.
I hope someday to find it. God will become greater in my life and I hope that I will finally figure out how to live as a protagonist and a supporting character. But it's hard right now. So, those of you who read this blog, I will ask for some prayers.
Pray that I would find the balance I seek. Pray that God would show me how to magnify Him without short-selling myself somehow. And, on a practical level, pray that everything goes well for Finals Week this week.
To God be the praise, for He is ever worthy.
Sometimes I feel like I live that way. And I know it may seem silly. I'm the one living my life, yet all I'm doing is trying to fade into the background. In fact, that's often the place I'm most comfortable. Seriously. Let me be the servant, the unseen help, the one no one else usually notices, and I'm happy. Try to bring me into the spotlight, I'll fight tooth and nail. Especially if friends try to bring me out. If my professors praise me in class, I'll admit I like that. And I like birthday gifts. But try to point me out and praise me as a friend and equal, and I'll try to brush it off, put it on someone else's shoulders, spin it back to the praiser ( I'm not even sure that's a word, but it is now), or just reject it outright.
And I easily fade into the background. Just ask my friends. I can disappear in an instant. Sometimes, I like it that way. I consider it "bowing out gracefully," for surely that the heavenly realms have better things to watch than me. And surely my friends will have more fun without me. I know this sounds really ridiculous to you who read this, but it's true. This is what goes through my head, and it does seem true. Now, sometimes this feels rather positive. I don't mean that my friends would be better off without me, a la "It's a Wonderful Life," but rather that my part is done, my lines are finished, and it is my cue to exit center stage. Exit stage, period.
But afterwards, I feel rather terrible, like I'm depriving myself of joy or fun I could have had. But then again, I still wonder if I should have it or whether it is best for me simply to leave. Maybe my sacrifice will be better to be made rather than to hoard something like manna, only to have to decay before my eyes.
And I guess, if I'm honest, I live like a supporting character out of fear. I can be a real brat when I'm in the spotlight. I know it. I have been it and then absolutely hated myself afterward. Just ask my parents about the last real birthday party I had. We went bowling for the first time. I was stupid on so many different levels I shudder to remember myself. And no, not stupid in a cute-kid way, more like a spoiled-brat-who-should-know-better way. The last thing I ever want to do is act that way again.
Then there's the fear of being lifted up. After all, you know what they say. "What goes up must come down." That really scares me. I don't want to be lifted up only to come crashing again to the earth like the wreckage from the space shuttle Columbia. I've done the crash and burn thing, I don't want to go there again. And so, I figure, if I'm never lifted up, I can't be brought down.
Like one professor of mine says, "No pain...no pain!" (As opposed to "No pain, no gain.") If I keep from getting empowered or brought into the spotlight, I'll never have to deal with being humiliated or yanked off the stage. Or have rotten fruit and vegetables or pies thrown at me.
Because of those two factors I hate being thrown into the center of attention, especially if I haven't done anything worthy of it. And I mean I have to do something great to be thrown into the center. Score an interview that's impossible to get, publish something big/break into a market I hadn't gotten into before, or, back in high school, do well on certain tests or projects. Publishing something small or doing, yet another book review gets to be old hat. Or even worse, being thrown into attention for something I didn't really do. One excellent example from this year was the TU Creep. Also known as the bane of my existence!
Now, that may seem harsh, but I have my reasons. I had worked hard that week to write two articles for the Echo, one a news piece for the Taylor University, the other an interview with a big-name band in Christian music for the Arts & Entertainment section. The first was easy, but the second had a lot of drama attached to it. The interview ended up falling through and I had to scramble to write an article for the newspaper because my editor still needed something. I got free tickets to a local concert as a consolation prize from the group and my article still ran in the paper. Friday came around, the paper was published with both of my articles in it and what's the first words I hear directed at me as a claim to fame?
"Dude! You're on the TU Creep!"
The TU Creep, for those who don't know, is a blog site that some idiot set up to take random pictures of people all across campus. I had been on it before, so hearing I was there was no big deal. But then I found out they had put me on a second time. This was a new picture taken of me that the guys at my table were wigging out about. I didn't get praise for being in the Echo TWICE. I didn't receive praise for writing an article involving a big name band. I got praised because a stalker that has no taste, too much time on their hands and a lack of propriety decided to put up my picture twice in the same blog for no discernible reason.
I was steamed. (For my non-American readers, that means I was furious.)
Now, my close friends who knew I had done those articles told me I had done a good job. But the fact that I was famous at my floor table in the DC for being creeped on made a bitter impression on me. Needless to say, when the site for the TU Creep was accidentally blocked for a few hours, and caused massive uproar across campus, I was not sad in the slightest to see it go. In fact, I had to restrain myself from breaking the LTC and doing a jig in my room.
And now, one of my friends likes to point out that failed interview as something impressive I have done, and so pull me into the spotlight around his friends and our fellow Pro-Writing majors. I get reeeeeeaally annoyed at that. Call me a bit conservative, but a failure to land an interview and cobbling together an article from scratch within twenty-four hours to cover for it does not count as a success in my book. it still counts as a massive failure. Nor does it count as the mark of a professional (something else this friend likes to tell me but really strikes me as incredibly wrong in every sense of the word). It counts as the mark of someone who needs to get his act together. At least, it is in my opinion.
To top off the problem, I like living there because sometimes it brings me the greatest satisfaction. Knowing my sacrifice has helped someone else enjoy something is worth it in my eyes. Whether that's doing dishes, cooking food, or giving someone else the last of the Wodfamchocsod and having none myself. And I like to do it alone. It's easier to make sacrifices if I'm the only one who notices it. And I like it that way. I don't want to be lauded when I sacrifice something. I'd even rather keep it secret. Again, possibly because I grew up thinking that it's better to be that way. After all, Jesus talked about storing up treasures in heaven and giving not being something done for someone else to praise, like the Pharisees did. Which then makes me question whether I do it out of a pure heart or to be praised anyway for a "humble" spirit.
Whoever knew humility could be so tough?
So, how do I quit living as a supporting character in my own life story? Seriously?
I wish I had answers but, if I did, I wouldn't be writing this blog. Rather I'm trying to explain myself, but..... I'm also trying to find answers. Not as easy as I wish it was. Figuring out what the meow is wrong with me? That's easy. Finding a solution? Not so much.
I hope someday to find it. God will become greater in my life and I hope that I will finally figure out how to live as a protagonist and a supporting character. But it's hard right now. So, those of you who read this blog, I will ask for some prayers.
Pray that I would find the balance I seek. Pray that God would show me how to magnify Him without short-selling myself somehow. And, on a practical level, pray that everything goes well for Finals Week this week.
To God be the praise, for He is ever worthy.
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