You Lookin' At Me?

This past Saturday was not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill January Saturday: a beautiful, sunshine-filled day with a high of 66. After months of being cooped up inside with the heater, blankets, sweaters, and three pairs of socks, it felt great to throw open the windows and welcome in a taste of spring. To celebrate, Jon & I decided to go to the local park and play some tennis. He always jokes that one of these days, I'll get the idea, and we'll actually be able to play a real game instead of "fetch" like we do now. We batted the tennis ball back and forth a few times, and Jon offered me helpful advice that's probably no news to normal people: "Move around more," "Run after the ball; don't walk after it," "Get some pep in your step!" etc. 

After 20 minutes of getting maybe one good volley between us and then diving after the tennis balls in the piles of leaves to the side of the court, Jon came up to the net and asked, "What's wrong? Aren't you having fun? You don't seem like you're having a good time." I assured him I was enjoying myself, and we went back to a few more volleys. Finally, after I watched a ball go sailing by that would have been in my reach if I'd have only moved my feet, my poor frustrated husband called out, "Nancy! What are you doing? If you want to play tennis, you have to MOVE!" And I responded with, "But there's PEOPLE in the other court who might see me!" And that's when it hit me what my real problem was: I had nothing against the game of tennis, running after the ball, or even breaking a sweat. My problem was that I didn't want the people in the other tennis courts to see me make a mistake. What if they watched me and saw how bad I was? What if they secretly laughed to themselves and said, "Why is she even trying? She ought to go to the kiddie park. Man, is she terrible." What if they rejected me and judged me on my lousy tennis performance? Just as soon as it hit me, that thought was quickly followed by another one: Why in the world should I care?!?

Here I was, enjoying a nice Saturday in the park (cue Chicago music) with my husband, and I was so paranoid as to what others thought of me that I couldn't even have fun. I started thinking of just how silly that really was and how many times I let what I imagine others think of me affect me, what I do, and, ultimately, who I am. Someone once told me that we spend all this time worrying about what other people think of us, when in reality, all those other people are too busy worrying about what other people think of them to really care about us at all! What a mixed up, messed up world! We spend hundreds upon thousands of dollars every year to make other people impressed (clothes shopping, make-up, hair styles, hair color, plastic surgery, nose jobs, etc.), and all the while, they're too preoccupied with themselves to notice or care! What a perfect net Satan has cast for us to fall into!   

We shouldn't worry what the world thinks of us; we're called to go into this world to bring people out of it, not to blend in! Have fun! Don't worry about other people watching! Be yourself! Sing karaoke! Bat that tennis ball! Dance for no reason other than being happy! This world can be such a down-trodden, melancholy place that such joy stands out in the crowd. Be joyful so that people are curious about you. Make them want to find out why you can be so unashamedly you. God made you who you are; why are you afraid to be that person? If He'd wanted you to be somebody else, He would have made you differently! But you're you with your looks and your skill set for a very important reason. Don't question it; you might never find out this side of heaven.

I'm a klutz; I always will be, and I don't think there's anything I can really do about it. I'll never be Venus Williams on a tennis court. I'll never be Julia Child in the kitchen. And I'll never be Barbra Streisand singing on a stage. But I'll have fun. I'll glorify my God, love my husband and family, and be who God created me to be. So, next time I'm out, if somebody looks my way and wonders why in the world I'm dancing down the aisle of the grocery store, I hope they stop and ask me why I'm so joyful. I'd love to introduce them to the God who created joy and created me and can give them that joy too.