Published by Becky Beresford for the Brave Women Series.
When I was in grade school, I counted the days in between visits to the roller rink. It was the '80s, which meant I’d pull out my fancy pink satin jacket, with its flat collar and the silver sequined roller skate on the back. I’d pump a few spritzes from my reserved-for-the-rink perfume, which I’d carefully labeled “Roller Skating Perfume” with my Dymo label maker. I’d tuck my Goody comb in my pocket (making sure the purple handle was visible outside my jacket).
But every time we went, this annoying little girl, who was faster and cuter than I was, would steal all of the attention. Inevitably, as soon as we laced up our skates, she’d seek out whoever made eye contact with her and say, “See me skate?” Then she’d take a lap, checking on their undivided attention as she went, stopping back to collect their praise.
Fueled by this applause, See-Me-Skate Girl glided along for hours, annoying me the entire time. All of my effort with the perfume and the jacket and the comb, and she stole all of the attention.
Really, it wasn’t that I wanted the attention. What I longed for was approval. Acceptance. I wanted to know I was enough. Praise equaled worth.
I’m not sure when my tango with striving actually began, but I see roots of it here. And that dance lasted for years. I took it further and attached this twisted game of proving myself to my relationship with Jesus. As a preacher’s kid, I learned early how to do Jesus-y things, but I didn’t do them to show His love to others. I did them to earn His love for me.
For years, I lived my faith like this. Like See-Me-Skate girl, I, too, stepped onto the rink to skate out my faith, asking Him to watch me. I went around and around and around, waving at Him as I sped by.
Lap after lap, I’d check in with Jesus:
"Hey, Jesus, look what I did for you today!"
"Hey, Jesus, did you see that?"
"Hey, Jesus, how am I doing?"
For years, I thought I was nailing it. I thought I was living a courageous faith. I believed the world’s lie, that pursuing those big things is what brave looks like, and I thought I was being brave.
Read the full article in Becky Beresford's Brave Women Series.
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