Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden. Are you going to object, “So how can God blame us for anything since he’s in charge of everything? If the big decisions are already made, what say do we have in it?” But who are you, a human being, to talk back to God? Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, “Why did you make me like this?” Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some for common use?

Romans 9:18-21
(mix of New International Version and The Message translations)

This passage came up during today’s message at church. It was like a big hug and a big smack on the nose at the same time.

As I’ve mentioned countless times, I am a person who does not handle failure very well. For an underachiever, I actually find myself to be quite the perfectionist. I cannot handle letting people down, and more importantly, I hate letting myself down. That’s probably why I hardly stuck it out with many different things: piano, guitar, basketball, jobs. Every time it gets too hard and I fail, I just walk away to save myself the disappointment.

For some time, I already had an answer to why I rarely try my absolute best in anything I do – it’s fear. Fear of rejection, fear of embarrassment, fear of having to pick myself up and start all over again.

Today, I discovered that the root is something else: pride. Fear of failure is just another term for “not wanting to have to save face”.

In the last year, I decided to pour out every ounce of effort in all aspects of my life. It’s one of the few times where I really give it my best shot. Hell, I’m 25 years old and it’s about time I start getting passionate, right? Unfortunately, I learned in the last few weeks that effort is not always the key. Sometimes, purpose and intention are more important than effort.

Today, I remembered that God looks at the heart, not at actions. When you do something right but for the wrong reasons, it can still come back to bite you in the ass.

What exactly was I jumping through all these hoops for? What did I want to prove? And to whom did I need to prove these things? All those questions came pointing back at me. I’ve been figuratively tap dancing in roller skates through life for myself. I always felt this unquenchable need for success and praise and “oh Ria, you are so brilliant, what would the world ever do without you?”

Every time I found myself to be good at something, I’d think, “Wow, I’m made to do this.” But whenever I failed myself, I’d automatically punish myself, flush all my progress down the toilet, and be miserable. Repeat cycle.

And then the complaints start.

Why, God? Why me? Why did you make me smart but unsuccessful? People always said I’d be somebody by the time I was 25, God. Where’s my fortune now? My parents didn’t spend all that money for my education for me to still not know what to do with my life. Is this what I’m destined for? Maybe I deserve this. Do I deserve this? Tell me now, God, NOW. Waaah, waaah, waaah.

Okay, not verbatim, but that’s pretty much how it sounds like.

And then our pastor read this interesting quote during the service:

I have an iron will, and all of my will has always been to conquer some horrible feeling of inadequacy. I push past one spell of it and discover myself as a special human being, and then I get to another stage and think I’m mediocre and uninteresting again and again. My drive in life is from this horrible fear of being mediocre. And that’s always pushing me, pushing me. Because even though I’ve become somebody, I still have to prove I’m somebody. My struggle has never ended and it probably never will.

Madonna

What Queen Madge here has expressed so poignantly is this: like it or not, we all have that gap in ourselves that we don’t stop trying to fill. It’s a gap we try to fill with things like purpose and acceptance. It’s what drives us in life. But when you fill that gap with things that are temporary or inconsistent – well, you’re never going to be satisfied or content with your life.

Each one of us strives for a certain kind of perfection in life. This does not necessarily translate to having Warren Buffett’s bank account or having a fleet of Lamborghinis in your garage. Sometimes perfection just means a lasting marriage, a job that pays the bills and lets you buy a few toys, having your own place – pretty much just a sense of fulfillment. And we get angry because we will never have all the fulfillment we want. Not from people, not from stuff, not even from experiences. Show me the happiest man in the world and I bet even he feels like he lacks something.

Today, I was reminded that God does not expect us to strive for perfection because He has already given it to us when Jesus took our place on the cross. We’re just so distracted all the time that we lose sight of it. Other times, we’re just too full of pride to acknowledge it. Nah, it’s cool, God. I don’t need your help. I got it. But when we remember and focus on that grace given, it’s so liberating. You’re no longer trying to add to what is inadequate; you are overflowing with what’s already there. Once our purpose becomes God instead of ourselves, that’s when you start feeling satisfied.

I should just stop complaining on why God hasn’t made me a gazillionaire superstar with six pack abs yet and quit comparing myself with other people my age. This is where faith (and that passage at the start of this entry) comes in. Who am I to complain how God decides the outcome of my life? For all I know, in the future, I could still be a starving artist by the time I retire with peanuts for savings. But does that change the fact that God loves me? Our parents have given us a hard time for a lot of things, sometimes for things that seem illogical, but it doesn’t change the fact that they love us (assuming your parents aren’t psychotic child abusers).

If you’ve come this far in this entry, it’s either you feel the same way as I do or you’re bored and have nothing else to read. Or you’re amused by how ridiculous I sound. (And it’s probably because I can be really incoherent when I’m excited about something.) This may all seem stupid, uncool, self-righteous and oh-so-unintelligent to some of you, but nothing has made more sense to me in my whole life.

I’m not trying to prove myself to anyone or trying to show off how ~*faithful*~ I am. It’s quite the opposite, really. This is me acknowledging my inadequacy, my horrible attitude, my misplaced sense of self-entitlement. That I don’t claim any higher moral position or higher place in life for believing in God. That everything that’s good in me, it’s Him. Because if you know me well enough (especially from my teen years), you would know that I am the last person to be all “pious” and “holy”.

After church, I posted on my Twitter about how God answered my prayers through the message, and I got this reply from a friend from college:

Tell me about it.

So here’s to a new and brighter day. It’s not necessarily going to get easier, but at least I know why it’s worth it. Glory to God.