My defining personality redeemed
Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash
My (nonexistent) artistic career came to a definitive end at Bible camp. Each summer, my friends and I would carefully select the skills we wanted to participate in during our fun-filled week. The craft option was always the most desirable choice, in our juvenile estimation.
At the end of this particular week, however, I distinctly remember viewing the completed projects and beautiful handiwork of my fellow campers. They hadn’t just slathered on paint and declared it finished. Instead, my peers had carefully added details, adapted blueprints, and created intricate masterpieces. While I had struggled to create a close-enough version of the original, they had thrived on every minute of creative opportunity. And in that defining moment, I knew this was not my skill set.
A similar experience occurred during piano lessons. “You aren’t naturally gifted at piano,” my music teacher stated in her direct manner, “but you practice really hard.” This blunt statement was actually a freeing moment for me. I now had no unrealistic pressure placed on me to achieve musical greatness. Also, I learned that much can be accomplished by relentless hours of repetitive practice.
I thought about these defining moments and my natural propensities (or lack thereof) because of a podcast I heard about personality traits. Jeremy Pierre says, “Christian growth is not about changing your personality, but about maturing your personality to better reflect the character of God. … We waste a lot of time longing to be something other than we are, when Christ wants to do the miracle of displaying his character in who you are.”
What a refreshing concept to accept and even enjoy the fact that the Lord knew what he was doing when he knitted me together in the secret place (Psalm 139:13–15).
Unless the Lord intervenes, I will never automatically transform into an extroverted optimist or a crocheter extraordinaire. However, the Lord has purposefully given me what I need to fulfill his will (2 Peter 1:3).
Unless the Lord intervenes, I will never automatically transform into an extroverted optimist or a crocheter extraordinaire. However, the Lord has purposefully given me what I need to fulfill his will (2 Peter 1:3). I don’t have an excuse for lazy negligence as I am conformed to Christ’s character, but I also have a responsibility to be content.
We recently watched a video of my daughter as an adorable little two-year-old. She was given a present sealed in plastic packaging. In the video, she is standing on a chair next to her daddy and eagerly looks up at me as I record. “My daddy help me,” she repeats excitedly. She is absolutely confident that her toy is safe in her dad’s hands. She knows that he will soon open it and will help assemble the treasured pieces.
I want a similar confidence that God is fitting together my simple service in the building up of his body (1 Corinthians 12; Romans 12). It’s not a contest to cross the finish line first with the best accolades and fan-base, but to be pleasing in his sight as we use our gifts together that “with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Romans 15:6).
