As it turns out… I’m not very smart. I’m inadequate too.
No, this isn’t a pity party; this is rather a reality. I have worked in many jobs where my skills were never utilized. I could coast along with the requirements because I needed to only exert enough to excel. Let me explain a little further. My mother was a master educator. She will most likely laugh and scoff at that statement, but it’s very true. I left my homeschooled career and launched into a high school career perfectly equipped to learn and succeed. My mother knew her weaknesses and was determined that her sons have none of the disadvantages she had. This sheer determination for her sons to excel was like a powerful tidal wave that pushed me through high school and on into college. Something interesting happened though that I don’t think she could have anticipated. Neither high school nor college was the challenge that she had been. With little effort, I obtained perfect grades. Most of my fellow students hated my test scores and, if on occasion they scored higher than me, were sure to rub it in my face. It was pride that drove me to good scores, but more than pride, the work was easy.
Recently I began weight training with weighted vests. It’s like normal training, but with fifty extra pounds strapped to your body. I carry that weight when running and jumping and anything else. It builds a great deal of strength. When, at the end of the session, I take the vest off, I feel as though I can do all the work all over again with ease. I can jump so much higher and run faster than my feet can carry.
This is exactly what homeschooling did. My mother, in an attempt to train us to the best of her ability, placed a heavy load on us. This was a good and wise move on her part. The only issue is that once the heavy load was gone, I could achieve the same results with little effort. Throughout my eight remaining years, I slowly learned that I no longer needed to study. I could pass almost any test without it. My writing skills were honed enough that, with a few quick edit runs through, I could whip out a college thesis paper in a weekend.
Is this meant to brag? By no means. This is meant as a great tragedy. For as I walked into the work place, I had honed my skills at academia, but not that of the real world. I could pass any short answer or multiple choice test, but in an office, this skill is irrelevant.
My first few jobs catered to my skill of repetition. I took documentation and simply repeated the steps I knew. I appeared to be a fantastic worker. I even thought so. Today, I look around me, and I see men and woman who are talented and skilled at doing my job far better, faster, and more efficiently than I. In a work place that takes creativity, I seem to be a step behind. Everyone else knows where they’re going and when they will arrive. I spend most of my time just trying to figure out where here is.
So much of life has become that lately. I know I speak of work, but my faith is faced with a similar crisis. So many things I’ve known and counted on as fact are empty. In the past few months, with the things God has revealed to me, I feel even more inadequate than ever. I look back, not with longing, but with thoughts, wishing I’d have known then that I was coasting on momentum. Trying to learn how to paddle after the wave has ended it much more difficult than if I had learned as it still propelled me.
“Father, all things can be done by you. Take my inadequacy and fill in the gaps. Because I can’t even stand without you. Teach me the determination of your spirit, all to obedience.”