The Secret Ingredient is Fear of Failure

I'm going over to my mom's house today, to celebrate my birthday. She said she's making potato salad. I hope she's a little stressed out while she's making it. I wouldn't feel this way if my momma hadn't let me in on a little secret a few years ago: the secret ingredient, like it or not, is fear of failure. “I don't know why,” my mom said, “but when I think the potato salad is gonna be GREAT, it usually ends up being gross or mediocre. But when I'm freaking out the whole time, afraid it's gonna be a disaster, people say it's delicious.” As I mused about this strange phenomenon, I realized that it's also true of my life. When I was terrified that I wasn't going to finish a poem in time, I made it to Nationals. When I fretted about a story I was trying to write, my boss said she loved it. When I'm portraying a character and I think I got it all wrong, a little girl comes up to me and says I am a great actress. It's when I have something to prove (and something to lose) that I seem to do my best. Don't get me wrong: fear of failure can be crippling. There have been MANY projects that have been planted in my brain and never made it to fruition because I was afraid to start. Fear of failure keeps dreamers from making their dreams a reality, lovers from pursuing the object of their love, and parents from embracing their children freely. But a small dose – a tiny fear of failure that doesn't keep you from starting but propels you into creative genius – that's the kind of fear that I'm talking about. I wonder if that's sort of the same kind of fear that God mentions in the Bible. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.” The psalmist doesn't mean terror... he means a respect that makes us want to honor God's greatness. When I'm struggling with something, I find myself praying far more often. “God, help me with this awful parody I'm writing... Lord, I'm giving you this day, because I have no idea how I'm going to get all of this clean... Jesus, please fix my bad attitude. I'm tired of yelling at my family all day.” God enables me to do things the right way – the way I like to do them. But many times, it first takes a humble admission that I have no idea what I'm doing before I see the light. Perhaps pride has something to do with it. In elementary school, I was sure I would get a gold medal for track and field day, and I only made bronze. In junior high, I brought a dead lizard to school in a plastic bag because I was SURE that my science teacher would want to dissect it in class that day. (For years, people remembered that, and I unknowingly became the weird kid that day.) After I graduated high school, I thought I looked “hot” in a dress I wore on Valentine's day, and I wound up falling off a scooter and being covered in dirt and road rash. I could lament all of these “tragedies” in life, but the truth is that I needed to be humbled. I thank God that He quickly humbles me. I need to write uncomfortably. I need to LIVE uncomfortably. Because life is not all about me anyway. It's about the moments, the memories. Making life count. And that is never comfortable.

Sinking and staying afloat

Victories seem so fleeting, as the depression creeps its way in
I'm struggling to stay above water, and I know that this is a sin
Don't know if it's discontentment, but I don't feel I can win
Giving it to God, feeling better, then feeling this pain again.

I know He's bigger, I know He's greater – I know good Christians don't feel this way
He's in control of everything but the Enemy's not letting me feel well today

Allergies that feel like an awful cold, my throat is raw and sore
From coughing for days on end, reactions unlike I've had before

I'm done second-guessing myself, I'm done second-guessing God
I just hope and pray that some relief will be brought

I am blessed so well, I know these things – they permeate my mind
A gorgeous daughter, blessed pregnancy, and a husband who's so kind
I've got two mothers who love me dear, one from marriage and one from birth,
I know God loves me so much that He died but I can't feel my own worth.

I've been given a job that is full of joy, surrounded my loving people
I've got a beautiful church family and pastor who minister under the steeple
I know I'm lucky, and I'm SO GRATEFUL, and I don't know what to do
These feelings continue for me when I've prayed and read my Bible, too.

I don't know what it is that has me down -
I'm not taking my life for granted
I feel blessed for every day He's given
But my mood's been disenchanted.

Am I a failure? Should I do something? And if so, what to do?
I'm giving this awful spirit and heart-feeling right back to You.
You have made me for a purpose, that I know is true...
Is finding this purpose stressing me so much that I'm of no use?

I know that you'll win this battle for me, God
I'll just keep relying on You
I know I shouldn't pray this way, 'cause you've got a plan
But I hope you win it for me soon.

I'm broken, and I can't find which part
Has led to the breaking of my fragile heart
But I know that your servants never suffer in vain
When I am weak, You are strong in my pain.

8:55 AM
2/15/11
JW

Haunted by my Ex

You stalked me in a dream last night,
The way you used to do
With arms around me, held me tight
And tried seduction too.

You spoke to me of marriage,
A romantic rendezvous
You lived and died, for all those years
Yet steadfast: your worldview.

But things had changed, and I had changed
I belong to Cam, not you
I told you that my heart's not yours,
So you threw me across the room.

I knew that this must be my time,
So, running on my feet,
I knew I had to get away
Or you'd come after me.

I heard you say, “Come back, come back!”
It was a feeble plea.
But desperation turned to anger
As violent as the sea.

I frantically tried to open the locks
I took them two at a time
I opened the front door, forgetting about
The security door behind.

With you almost upon me now,
I whispered a silent prayer:
“God, help me!” and so He did
As I ran into the open air.

I kept on running, as you screamed,
“COME TO BED!” with an unearthly roar
But then I woke from this nightmare of you
And life was just perfect as before.

I have been blessed with my wonderful man,
And beside me, our daughter soundly slept.
I have another child waiting inside me -
From a nightmare, to a dream, I was swept.

6:34 AM 2/1/11 JW

Truth

The longer I look around, the more I am reminded that truth means little in today's society. At my workplace, children (even the smallest of them) lie with ease and gusto, even about the pettiest things. I have never really understood the motivation to lie... that's not to say I have never lied, because, of course, I'm no more perfect than the next person. Maybe what I mean is that because I have never been a "good liar", I have never had a desire to be. I grew up in a home where the truth was told, even if it hurt to say it and it hurt to hear it. In fact, my mother has sometimes called herself "honest to a fault", because she tends to tell people much more of the truth than they even want to hear.

I remember when I was a teenager and some friends wanted me to stay the night with them at a male friend's house. He was then and always will be a completely platonic friend... we used to call him our "girlfriend who's not a girl" or something like that. Anyhow, I told my friends that I probably couldn't stay the night because he's a boy, and some of them said, "Just tell your parents you're at (insert female friend's name here)'s house." "I can't do that!" I said. I didn't even have to think about my reply; it was automatic. I've just never been much of a liar. As I said before, I still have my faults. I have withheld plenty of truths, or said things that made what I was doing sound one way when it was another, so I admit that I have been plenty deceptive in my life. I will also admit that I feel terrible about those times and all of the things I did that destroyed my credibility.

Anyhow, I wrote all of this to get down to another point: What is truth? Is it OK to lie? What if it's just a little white lie? I have struggled with these questions throughout my life and continue to struggle with them, but in order to help some of you who may not have come to this realization yet (or who may have a different take on it) I offer my opinion freely to you. :)

As with anything, I would like to see what the Bible says on this subject. God is the author of all wisdom, and any insight we gain on the subject ought to be based on the Lord's perfect knowledge, not on flawed human reasoning. In Psalms 31:5, the Lord is referred to as "the God of truth". Jesus verified this when he came down to earth and said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6). We see clearly that the Lord is truth. If He is truth, He cannot be deceiving. In fact, it says that He hates deceit (Psalm 5:6).

God is truth and Satan is his opposite, thus making Satan the ultimate liar. The Bible backs this up in John 8:44, in which Jesus refers to the devil as the father of lies, even going so far as to say that lies are his "native language". I was pondering this verse quite some time ago, and it struck me what He said to those he was addressing (namely, the Pharisees, but it can apply to anyone) about being the children of the devil. Here's the passage in context: John 8:42-45 "Jesus said to them, "If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now am here. I have not come on my own; but he sent me. Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say. You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father's desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me!"

A liar can't even understand God's language! I've come in contact with a few compulsive liars in my life, and you can't even tell them the truth about their own lives. They have completely rewritten their life stories, and if you were to try and correct their versions of the story, they would become indignant. I believe that something terrible happens to a person when they repeatedly lie to people. They start out lying to people but eventually lie to themselves. These lies become so ingrained in them that they start to believe it is the truth.

When I came to this realization, I wondered whether God would accept a person's lies as truth based on their belief that the lies ARE the truth (I hope I'm not losing you out there!). The more I weighed this question, the more I came upon the realization that truth is not relative and God's standards are the same for everyone. God gives grace to everyone, and all who ask for it. My main concern (and the danger here) is that a person will not receive grace because they will not ask for it, believing that they have not sinned in a certain way or fooling themselves into believing that they don't need God's grace. And what about the unconfessed sin of lying? These are some of the questions that grew more daunting as I thought on about them.

Matthew 7:21-23 says, "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'"

I wonder how many self-assured, "holy liars" will be in this position. How many self-professing (yet lukewarm) Christians will be in this position? In addition to that, though, how many people will be in this position who were truly "spiritual superheros" in our minds? The ones who cast out demons and do great things for the Lord? How do they get in that position? Perhaps it has something to do with lying to themselves, letting Satan in and convincing them that two lives are appropriate and acceptable, as long as someone wears the appropriate masks.

"For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, masquerading as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. It is not surprising, then, if his servants masquerade as servants of righteousness. Their end will be what their actions deserve." (1 Corinthians 11:13-15)

How many people in our churches are working as double agents for Satan, without even realizing it? I don't know, but I hope and pray that I'm not one of them!

He Knew He Was Going To Die

Sunday, December 20, 2009 at 5:03pm

I keep thinking about a dream I had quite some time ago. I'm not sure why, but it's stuck in my head lately. Cam gave me a lot of insight about what it means, but I don't know yet what to do with it. If anyone else has an idea of what they think it might mean, let me know. I might take it or I might leave it, but at least you put it out there. :)

Here's the dream (I can't remember all of it, so bear with me):

I was putting in a resume to start acting (I want to be an actress one day) and dropped my resume off at a booth. When I was done, I ran into two of my friends (Courtney and Brittney). I talked to them about how much I was enjoying it and encouraged them to go put in resumes too. (I think one or both of them did, and I went with them.)

Then, I was upstairs in a hotel or something. Cam and I were waiting for the elevator and an elevator came up... but it was filled with lots of stuff. It was all dusty furniture, and there was a crib in there too. Everything was empty and dusty, and I was terrified. Cam kept urging me to take that elevator but I wouldn't get on it. It felt like someone had died and that was all their furniture... just left in that abandoned elevator. I waited for the next elevator (and so did Cam, although I think he was mad at me).

The next elevator came and there were two really rich looking guys in it. One of the men was very tall and imposing, and I could tell they were both wealthy because they were wearing extremely nice suits. :P There was a little boy (I think) in the elevator and the tall man asked me to watch him. He was playing with a huge gold brick, and I kept my eye on him because every time the elevator doors opened, it seemed like he wanted to wander off (I was also afraid of him getting stuck in the doors).

Before we got to the lobby, the man was acting strangely and handed us a card. I started to get that weird feeling again like something bad was going to happen, and in my head I was freaking out. He said a prayer with everyone in the elevator (I think the boy was gone by then) and while he prayed (and everyone's eyes were closed), I took out the card and read it as fast as I could. It said something like, "Thank you for what you did for my family. I was very grateful to you for that." There was just something about the way that it was written... and the way that he used past tense as if he didn't exist anymore. I was even more freaked out and just as the prayer ended, the elevator dinged and we were at the lobby. As soon as the doors opened, the man stepped out. I was hot on his trail because by then I was really wondering what was going on. I watched as he quickly and purposefully walked out of the hotel, turned right, and walked across the street. There was another hotel there, and as soon as he got to the double doors, he laid down on the ground, then died. The shorter guy who must have been his assistant called for people to help him, and all I remember saying before the dream ended, was: "He knew he was going to die... he knew he was going to die... I don't know how he knew it, but he just laid down and died... look at this card... he knew he was going to die..."

Post-Christmas Bummer

Now there's nothing to look forward to, all gifts have been unwrapped
Now I notice with greater distress the tight'ning of my pants
Now the family's gone, no sounds of delightful laughter I hear
It seems there's nothing left to do but shed a bittersweet tear

Come back, oh Christmas... come just one more day
More love to spread and more kind words to say
Bring a smidgen more of that Christmas cheer
Just a bit more at the end of the year.

The lights and gifts and songs so distracting
All life was on hold; now it's reacting
The squeaky wheels silenced by "Silent Night"
Are again looking to be quite a fright.

If ev'ry day were Christmas, what a joy it'd be
And ev'ry day a vacation from life, for me
If every day were Christmas, the manger-bed
Would be always full of a third of the Godhead

If every day were Christmas, then you and I
Could forever celebrate the day God drew nigh
We'd only have the promise of our little king
No Savior to depend on for everything.

I will miss you, sweet Christmas, but if you honestly must go
I'm grateful that you have Easter arriving safely in tow
The bitterness of the Christmas child's death is so hard to take
But His own sweetness grows sweeter as our redemption, He makes.

Jenn Wallace
12/26/2009
2:02 PM

Clouded Thoughts, Careful Actions

Great, swirling clouds above my head
A shaking quake under my bed
I cannot simply find my mind
Nor am I e'er the tidy kind

I truly wish that I could be
Some more like you, a better me
I'd strain each sinew 'til I die
It doesn't help, why even try?

I'm sure that, still, I'll wake up soon
Some more like me, some less like you
Striving torments this weary heart
Assurance is a with'ring art

I'm still not sure yet who I am
I'm putty in my Closest's hands
If you can say (I pray you do)
Please tell me what I mean to you.

10:03 PM
1/16/10