The word that made me cringe

This summer I was having a conversation with someone who brought up a word that made me cringe...obscurity. Nothing about that word seemed appealing to me at the time. Since I can remember, I was always envisioning the next big thing, with all the supportive people and if we're being honest, probably some applause. Obscurity sounded dark, dismal, sad, bleak. Everything in my "need to be unique self" disliked it. So I tucked it away to unpack for another time...quite assured that Jesus could call some people to obscurity....but not me. I felt called to "greatness".

Then December happened.

In December I attended a conference where I spent half the event in a puddle of tears on the concrete floor, the other half doing some sort of interpretive dance and having discussions with my friends where all I could manage to really get out was that I was "processing".

In case you thought I was exaggerating... (A friend sent this to me as "proof for the blog")

You see...I like goals. I like big dreams. I like coming up with new ideas. I like creating out of nothing. I am comfortable with the stage, with attention, with leading. I like being able to answer questions such as "what is your next project?" or "where are you traveling to next?"

Yet there I was feeling such a strong tug on my very confused heart that the highest calling is actually lover, not leader. (To clarify, by "lover", I mean lover of Jesus).

Obscurity means the state of being unknown, inconspicuous or unimportant.

Great. Sign me up.

But really, sign me up.

Titles and positions are all fun and games until they become the measure of your worth. It's easy to let your status, calling, or rank become what defines you. I remember when I graduated college I hated the "limbo" season where I had no "real job". People would ask what I was up to and I would give them blank stares with lots of hand gestures, hoping that they wouldn't notice when I went on a tangent saying I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Obscure answers are uncomfortable. But what happens when Jesus asks me to lay aside those titles? What's left when everything else is stripped away?

See, Jesus (the greatest person of all time) was incredibly humble. He came as an infant, totally exposed, vulnerable, naked, and human, when he could have come riding on the clouds as a crowned King. Instead, He laid in a manger full of who even knows what. Sounds inconspicuous to me.

So what does that mean for me?

I think it means asking myself on a regular basis "Is Jesus enough?"

If I never stood on another stage,

or held another microphone,

or spoke in front of an audience,

or received another complement,

or had my name with the title "leader" next to it....

would Jesus be enough for me?

Being known and successful isn't the highest goal. I'm not saying I am nothing or worthless. I'm saying that my worth does not come from external things, but rather from Christ.

Maybe "greatness" is defined as loving Jesus well.

So as we walk into 2019, I'm looking to reshape my perspective.

Whether I'm in the spotlight or the shadows...it's really all about Him.