Enough

A friend of mine in my teen years was one of those girls that everybody loves. She smiled at the world all the time, and she had a lovely smile. She lit up a room, and everyone enjoyed her company.  As her close friend, however, I knew the sadness she struggled with. The feelings of inadequacy. The consistent low-grade depression. When we were alone, I could see it on her face and in her demeanor.

It was astonishing, however, the way she would change when someone else came into the room. Suddenly, the smiley face was back. The perkiness. The energy. It was clearly a mask – and a mask that, by this point, she felt was expected of her and obligatory. At the time, it concerned me because I knew it was fake. I realize now that this was a necessary skill she had learned . . . she just picked it up earlier than the rest of us.

Because this is a skill most of us "good women" have, particularly us Christian women. Put on the smiley face. Be effortless for all. Say yes to every request. Carry everyone else’s burdens with no mention of your own. This is the expectation. We are afraid to be a hardship to someone – they will walk away, and we’ll be left alone.

John Eldridge voiced this so well in the book Captivating, which he wrote with his wife Stasi. This passage particularly jumped out at me:

What is this thing in me – and in most men – that just doesn’t want to go deep into a woman’s world? You are too much. Too hard. It’s too much work. . . And isn’t that just the message you lived with all your life as a woman? “You’re too much, and not enough. You’re just not worth the effort.” (And why is it such an effort? There must be something wrong with you.)

This is a message I heard often in my life. Not directly, of course – it was unspoken, but my ears plucked it out of so many innocuous and not-so-innocuous interactions. You’re not worth the effort. I know what I’m doing hurts you, but it’s too hard for me to change. I know you need this from me, but that’s a lot of work. I’m good. You’ll adjust. Or maybe we just need to go our separate ways . . .

I don’t want to be sexist in this. I’m sure men also feel this way sometimes, too. But it does seem to be a uniquely feminine issue in our culture, and particularly in our religious culture. This feeling that we are a burden. Just me, in and of myself, in the very nature of who I am – I am a burden. I need to protect others from the problem of me. I have to make life easy for you poor souls who have to live in my sphere of influence.

It was a banner moment in my spiritual and emotional development when I was able to look at a significant other in my life and think, you know what? I deserve some work on your part. I mean, I’m aware that I’ve got my faults. Yes, I might be a bit much some days. I have a lot of words. I have needs. I have baggage and wounds. But, dude . . .

. . . I AM worth your effort. Damn straight, I am.

It took a lot of Jesus to get me there. To believe I’m worth someone’s work and sacrifice. To not take rejection as an appraisal of my personal value. To smile real smiles – smiles that are evidence of a joy I already possess, not efforts to induce others to take joy in me.

Yep, a whole lot of Jesus. Because he decided lo-o-ong ago that I was worth his sacrifice . . . and that's enough.