My son came to me not too long ago wearing his emotions on his sleeves about some things that had been said to him at school. Not knowing exactly what to say I began to recall in my mind some childhood memories that paralyzed me emotionally for quite some time.
My name is Kortney. With a “K” just so you know. And I’m a guy.
And my peers cashed in on many successful attempts at crushing me with their teasing. Making fun of my name. Telling me that I had a girl’s name. And things of that nature. I felt worthless. Uncomfortable in my own skin.
As those words continued ringing out in my head I felt defeated. But the day finally came when their words fell on deaf ears and I no longer allowed myself to be defined by what they said.
Trying to figure out how to deal with it I began to develop a different identity. Not one formed by my name. But my actions. I made it a point to impress my teachers with answers to their questions. I made jokes to get everyone to laugh and got out of my seat and visited friends two rows over without permission when I was finished with my work. Which occasionally got me sent to the hallway or the principal’s office.
I tried to outrun everybody on the playground. And pelt every feeble-kneed un-athletic kid in PE while playing dodgeball. I was desperate to prove my worth as a ‘man’ to the kids who had once laughed at my less than masculine name. I wasn’t mean. I was just seeking attention. And lots of it!
But soon even the attention, albeit sometimes negative, I was receiving at school and home and church just wasn’t enough. My parents had to intervene with consequences for my behavior. It was terrible! No TV. No Nintendo. No phone. (not cell phones–no home phone connected to the wall).
Some things had to change. My circumstances may not change. But the way I saw my circumstances definitely had to change. And my reactions to what was being said and done had to change. I had to learn that I am not the sum of what others say about me.
And as I shared that story with my son I reminded him, “You’re not defined by what others say about you either!” And though it’s likely that he and many others like him have felt they needed to shrink back in the fear that those people were right about what they were saying, I reminded him that he was so much more and had so much more to offer than what was being said.
However, I think I may have overcompensated with my actions to the tune of super-hyper, wildly active behavior. So I reminded him that he doesn’t have anything to prove to anybody else. He’s not living up to anybody else’s standard or anybody else’s hype. Just be yourself. Be you.
Words and actions can be extremely beneficial or excruciatingly detrimental to a kid’s psyche. I get that! They can believe they’re a failure or they can believe they can conquer the world by the monumental words of those that mean the most and are closest to them.
I love my son. Immensely! And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to provide the safest and most secure place for him to grow and flourish in becoming the kid and soon to be man that God has created him to be. To build up his confidence and live out the purpose God has planned for him.
I love the story in the Bible about a man named Gideon. This guy was super insecure and he found himself hiding behind the shame and fear of past generations who had been defeated and oppressed by other invading armies, particularly, the Midianite army.
He was so scared that he was threshing wheat in a winepress to stay hidden from this Midianite army. How ridiculous! Threshing wheat was meant to be done on a hillside with a breeze to blow away the chaff. A winepress was set up in the valley to serve as a cellar for storing drink. And here he was, doing it all wrong!
This next line is crazy! An angel appeared to him and said, “The Lord is with you, O mighty man of valor!”
He didn’t feel mighty. He didn’t feel courageous. He didn’t feel protected. He didn’t feel like the Lord was him or the rest of his people.
“Go in this might and save Israel from the hand Midian!”
“How can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest and I am the least in my father’s house.”
Somewhere along the way Gideon’s name had been wrecked. Promises made to his people had vanished from his memory. His hope had evaporated, and his courage had spiraled into the cellar of defeat.
He questioned the angel’s words. And I get it. The noise of others’ words and this pattern of inferior thinking was woven deep into his soul. Believing that he was a no-good-for-nothing peasant of a man who is now called upon to do something brave. To stand up and fight.
He required a sign. And the Lord met his request. God consumed a sacrifice and then let the dew fall on his fleece to attest to the truthful reality that Gideon had been called to do so much more than stay hidden in some cellar of fear.
God whittled down the number of Gideon’s army from 32,000 to 300 soldiers. If we can even call them soldiers. Why would he do that? To assure the once frightened and faint-hearted Gideon that the mighty warrior inside of him was actually predicated on the presence of God going before him.
God is placing a name and a purpose on His people that transcends anything any of us could ever imagine. He’s calling ordinary people to extraordinary measures. Extraordinary measures of faith, that is. But the power and presence of God goes beyond our wildest dreams. And it’s He that is accomplishing the great and mighty through us.
So what do Gideon and my son and me and even the rest of the world have in common? We’re constantly battling this war of who we really are.
We are more than any past mistake. We are more than our alleged inadequacies. We are more than our conjured up excuses. We are more than others’ opinions of us. We are more than the shame and fear our enemies are heaving on us.
“I am chosen, not forsaken
I am who you say I am
You are for me, not against me
I am who you say I am”
Kortney Jones 