Grateful

It seems to me that I go through cycles of competitiveness in life. 

As a child, the evidence suggests that I was insufferable. I would insist on practising primary school assessment papers until I literally got **every question right**. That's right - 100/100. My mum was terrorised into staying up with me and marking my papers, presumably putting up with my tantrums when I made a mistake, and relieved when I finally hit the target. 

I even actually did it one particular year's exams. Literally full marks for maths and science. You can't get full marks for English or Chinese composition, otherwise I think I'd have had a fit about that too.

I know, all you parents who are heading into PSLE are thinking, WHAT?? So good?? Be careful what you wish for, is what my mum and her marking-induced eyebags would presumably say to you :D

That furious competitiveness subsided a little after primary school, because I ended up in a school with even more competitive people, and perfect scores were simply beyond me. 

I'm glad for that time of learning to be humble and accepting that there are so many people smarter and more capable than me. That there are so many things I was simply no good at. It mellowed me, made me look at the world with wider eyes, and understand that achievement is not everything, and does not look the same for everyone. Failure is an amazing teacher.

But when I started work, everything seemed like a competition to me again. This didn't always work out in nice ways. Winning cases often seemed like a game to compete in, and the fact that these were real people with real issues was sometimes lost on me. 

The adversarial nature of the work fed me adrenaline, and it was thrilling to end each day knowing if I'd won or lost. Even after I transitioned away from purely adversarial work, for most of my career, I have continued to fight to win. 

For a long time, I competed so that I could tell myself, and show the world, "see how good I am!". A desperate voice in my head told me "If I do enough, I will be good enough". 

Even today, let's just be honest, there are still days when pride gets me irritated, because people don't seem to see that I'm as good as I deludedly think am.

But somewhere along the way, the reason for competing started to transform. And it has made an amazingly profound difference. 

I've been learning to walk more and more closely with God. He taps me on my shoulder and reminds me, who are you trying to win for? 

Humility check - do you know, you are indeed no good at all. Who do you think you are? You are a vapour in the wind. A mist that is here one day and gone tomorrow. Nothing you will ever do will make you good, or good enough. 

But I love you anyway.

To Me, you are worth it.

God is good. He is able. He gives life. He provides. He protects. He walks with me through valley and dry place. When things go wrong, as they will always do in this broken world, He is here for me. Not to remove me from the brokenness, but to see me through it.

So I learn to continue to fight and compete. It's who He made me to be. Not because competing and winning will make me worthy. But because He decided to love this mist and vapour. Because He saw this incredibly flawed and messed up person, doomed to endless pounding on the treadmill until every drop of sweat is squeezed out, hopelessly beating against the wind. And He gently helped me off the treadmill.

No longer fighting to prove I'm worthy. Because He says I already am. 

But still fighting because He's worthy. Because I'm grateful for the breath He gives me.

I visited another old friend recently. She had suffered a serious health-related episode, and is now going through rehabilitation. This means lots and lots of really hard work. And it's not easy at all. Possibly the hardest thing she has ever had to do. 

When I asked how tough it was, she said something that really struck me. 

"You know, some people who go through this, are completely incapacitated. Many don't survive it at all.

But God has somehow seen fit to have me survive it. Not only that - He has seen fit to have me in a position to work to improve my condition.

So it seems... (and here she paused for a moment to think of the right word) 

... ungrateful... now for me not to put all of my effort into doing it."

That's what we all are. We are all in this life where things will strike us, set us back and knock us down. Some are incapacitated, some don't survive. 

But here I am. Rescued from "death by treadmill", and offered life, peace, joy and purpose with Him in exchange. God offers that to everyone who is willing to say, ok I was heading the wrong way without You. I choose to step off the treadmill and choose to go Your way.

Having been rescued, it seems... ungrateful now, if I were not to fight with all I have for the purposes He has for me. 

Gratefulness isn't sitting contentedly in a corner, twiddling our thumbs, and feeling pleased for ourselves.

It's getting up out of the mud, holding on tightly to the Hand of the One who lifted us up, looking at the mountain ahead, and walking next to Him, along with all the others He's pulled out of the mire, as He points upwards and onwards. 

Deep breath. Hold on a little tighter to His hand. Next step forward!

"... One thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus" Philippians 3:14