I have a recurring insecurity that will just NOT go away. I imagine I’m not the only one… My greatest, peskiest insecurity is that I am a wallflower. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, a wallflower is “a shy person, … who is frightened to involve herself in social activities and does not attract much interest or attention”. The fear that I am socially insignificant has an exhausting, nagging presence in the back of my mind. I constantly have to shush it into submission.
We’ll come back to that fear in a moment – thankfully there is more to me than my complex insecurities! I’m passionate about Jesus; I’m passionate about expressing myself creatively through my personal style; and I’m passionate about music. And yes, I love worship music – but I’m talking passion for specifically the world of alternative music here – genres born out of movements that pushed back on society’s status quo… creatives that cared more about making authentic art than profitable art… subcultures that bring community to people who don’t see themselves represented in the mainstream.
I’m also passionate about my career in ministry – I’m on staff here at PCC – and the role that I typically fill in the Big Room on Sunday mornings is in the back, in the dark. I’m the Powhatan Campus Tech Coordinator – which just means I’m in charge of the team that runs all of our technical equipment. Thankfully my job is more about caring for and equipping the team, because I’m really not passionate about the equipment itself! But people experiencing Jesus during a service in the building… or while watching online…or in our prison campuses? That gets me excited. Our mission on the tech team is to “create a distraction free environment” so that people can more easily connect with God and experience His presence. That’s a really – really nice way to say that our “win” on a Sunday morning is to be completely unnoticed during the service. Now – what a FANTASTIC goal for a tech team at a church! However, it is not a fantastic reality to live as an individual.
No one likes to feel unnoticed – but attention isn’t just something we passively receive – It’s something we should be embracing, something we should be pursuing. Jesus says in Matthew 5:16 to “let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Oh man… wait a second… that fear, that voice in my head, is getting REALLY loud now. I’m supposed to be noticed so I can glorify God? But my fear is telling me I’m not interesting – that I don’t attract attention at all. It’s telling me I’ve spent my entire life awkwardly bumbling through interactions with other people – feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. I feel like I’m different, and that makes me question if I even have a light that shines at all.
Now, I know that I was created uniquely by God – that he loves me exactly the way I am – but knowing that doesn’t make me any less awkward, and it certainly doesn’t make my diagnoses go away.
About six years ago I started talking to my doctor about my mental health. My journey while in counseling had surfaced some traits that pointed towards some possible neurodivergency. Not long after I began voicing what I was experiencing, I left a three hour long neurological evaluation with a diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder, attention deficit hyperactive disorder, major depressive disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder. The paperwork I received from that doctor actually said… “due to the stated diagnoses we wish the patient the best of luck”. I’m sure the doctor didn’t mean for that statement to take the wind out of my already “underfunctioning” sails, but it did.
Remember my deepest insecurity?… that I am a wallflower? Once I was diagnosed that insecurity shifted from an anxious thought I occasionally experienced to what I thought was a medically confirmed reality. I lost the hope that I could bring anything to the table when it came to one of my biggest passions – pointing others to Jesus. Why would anyone come to me for advice if I couldn’t speak clearly or make them feel comfortable? Or even just make eye contact? Why would anyone inch closer to believing and hoping in Jesus because of my testimony? I struggled to believe that God could use me just the way I am. I was constantly comparing myself to others, and it had me devaluing the unique role I was supposed to be embracing. I desperately wanted to be the kind of leader that pulled people in with my charisma – but I wasn’t considering if God created me differently than other outgoing, dynamic, charismatic leaders for a reason. Maybe my light does shine – maybe it just shines in a unique way.
When Jesus tells us to let our light shine there isn’t an asterisk there with specific qualifiers of what a good light looks like. We’re not told the light needs to cast a specific color, or be the brightest and biggest. He isn’t saying we need to have a certain personality type to glorify him publicly. And it’s not just about personality! Our past mistakes don’t disqualify us, our financial status doesn’t disqualify us, our level of education doesn’t disqualify us, and our diagnoses don’t disqualify us.
It’s true that some people are naturally able to shine their light with a seemingly “larger” impact due to the personality they’ve been gifted with and the skills they’ve honed. But if I spend all of my time comparing myself to them I will miss out on the people who are uniquely attracted to my light. What about the people who get to see a glimmer of God’s goodness in my life when I’m able to connect with them over a mutual love for hardcore music? What about the folks who also like to dress a little weird? Maybe the darkness in their life could be lit up by me confidently expressing the creativity God has given me? What about the other neurodivergent people who are more likely to talk about what is heavy on their heart because they feel seen – they feel safer around someone who truly gets it? If I assume I have nothing to bring to the table – If I assume I am unqualified because my light looks different than other peoples light – I turn myself into the very thing I am afraid of being, a wallflower.
Now, there was a significant journey for me to go from confusion and comparison to being willing to put that negative voice in its place. I wrestled with God – I was honest with Him about what I didn’t like about myself, and I asked Him to help me see myself the way He sees me. I spend a significant amount of mental energy talking myself through the truth – my light IS noticeably unique, and that is for a reason. If I’m being honest – I still have rough days! It is still really easy for me to look around and see someone’s light and question if I’m bright enough in comparison. But again – Jesus didn’t give us qualifiers for what our light should look like – and he didn’t say that our light will be seen – or should be seen – by the same number of people. He just tells me to let my light shine – that instruction is an invitation to me to be a part of his life changing work.
That’s not just an invitation to me, the invitation is for you too. Do you question whether or not there’s room for you in leadership? Maybe you’re facing diagnoses similar to mine or you’re wrestling with feeling unnoticeable or unremarkable like me. Whoever you are – remember there are no asterisks or qualifiers listed after Jesus tells us to let our light shine. And yes, there are people who WILL be changed by seeing you be authentically you while you walk out your journey of faith – and even if it is just one person, they need you.
The best part is, we don’t have to navigate that journey on our own. Jesus will continue to comfort us and guide us as we go. We don’t just shine because he told us to – He is the source of our light – He is the only reason why there is anything in us that seeks to glorify Him in the first place. Knowing Him is a prize. He will not leave us or abandon us – He is always faithful. He is always present – when we feel seen by others, and when we don’t. When we feel like we matter, and when we don’t. Whenever I feel like my light isn’t enough, He is there. He is always there.
