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I've often had this feeling of having to "prove" myself.
"Bet you can't climb this high... 'cause you're a girl, and you're prob'ly scared of heights..."
This came from one of my playmates, high up in a tree. I wasn't afraid of heights, and promptly set out to show him this important fact. If there was one thing I was good at, back when I was nine and ten, it was climbing trees. I climbed higher than him, and had the satisfaction of hearing his loud "humph".
I did some of the stupidest things to prove myself, most of which I am not mentioning here. I wanted to prove, to myself mostly, that I was as good at doing things as boys were. I guess that's what happens when your best friends are siblings of six boys and their two sisters. The way I see it now, the boys shouldn't have dared me to do things... but then again, I could have acted like a little lady instead of copying everything they did.
One time I remember eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, and I wanted to prove that things didn't gross me out. With my sandwich in hand, I went to a certain dead squashed... well, maybe it was once a mouse, but it didn't look anything like one now... and calmly examined it while taking big bites of my yummy lunch.
Playing crack-the-egg on the trampoline was another of my "skills". Out of nine or so "eggs", I would most often be left conquerer, and I would be quite exultant whenever the crackers gave up.
Yet I think our favorite game of all time was capture the flag. We would play that for hours ... switching locations and boundaries: first in the woods, then around the barn, down at the park, and back up around the house. Eventually we'd stop for crackers and milk, and then we'd be back at it again. I found I was especially good at keeping the enemies attention off of our scouts in their land. And I was so proud whenever I rescued anyone from jail, or when I put one of the other "significant" players in our own jail.
Four-wheelers was another story. I'm surprised we haven't broken our necks! The older boys would try to scare us girls by doing jumps and wheelies in the dark, on a steep hill, way back in the middle of nowhere. I loved every minute of it, and was very pleased with myself because I didn't scream. Our parents didn't appreciate the four-wheeler like we did. Though, they did have some cause for concern, since we never wore helmets and drove it as fast as it could go.
Then there were hay tunnels. Hay tunnels were the best and the worst. We would build tunnels out of the couple hundred hay bales in the barn, making "secret" rooms here and there. One time we actually made three different levels! I way did not want to admit I was claustrophobic, so I would just shut my eyes, take a deep breath, and hang on to the persons feet in front of me so I wouldn't lose my way. Though there were several large rooms, most of the tunnels were only high enough to crawl through on your stomach. I usually was fine, unless someone decided it would be fun to put two or three bales on top of the entrances. Never would I show I was scared out of my wits, they would have thought I was a sissy!
I didn't realize until a few years ago how much those little instances of proving myself was affecting my walk with Christ. I would be very ambitious in memorizing more bible verses than my siblings, doing more "good things", (which in my case were usually just more chores), praying more often and overall just being "more spiritual". Though those things in themselves are to be incouraged in any person, my reason for doing them was wrong. And I wasn't doing them all just for show, I geuinely wanted to do things for Christ, though I was going about it the wrong way. [a-hem..] Then I read this:
"Bet you can't climb this high... 'cause you're a girl, and you're prob'ly scared of heights..."
This came from one of my playmates, high up in a tree. I wasn't afraid of heights, and promptly set out to show him this important fact. If there was one thing I was good at, back when I was nine and ten, it was climbing trees. I climbed higher than him, and had the satisfaction of hearing his loud "humph".
I did some of the stupidest things to prove myself, most of which I am not mentioning here. I wanted to prove, to myself mostly, that I was as good at doing things as boys were. I guess that's what happens when your best friends are siblings of six boys and their two sisters. The way I see it now, the boys shouldn't have dared me to do things... but then again, I could have acted like a little lady instead of copying everything they did.
One time I remember eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, and I wanted to prove that things didn't gross me out. With my sandwich in hand, I went to a certain dead squashed... well, maybe it was once a mouse, but it didn't look anything like one now... and calmly examined it while taking big bites of my yummy lunch.
Playing crack-the-egg on the trampoline was another of my "skills". Out of nine or so "eggs", I would most often be left conquerer, and I would be quite exultant whenever the crackers gave up.
Yet I think our favorite game of all time was capture the flag. We would play that for hours ... switching locations and boundaries: first in the woods, then around the barn, down at the park, and back up around the house. Eventually we'd stop for crackers and milk, and then we'd be back at it again. I found I was especially good at keeping the enemies attention off of our scouts in their land. And I was so proud whenever I rescued anyone from jail, or when I put one of the other "significant" players in our own jail.
Four-wheelers was another story. I'm surprised we haven't broken our necks! The older boys would try to scare us girls by doing jumps and wheelies in the dark, on a steep hill, way back in the middle of nowhere. I loved every minute of it, and was very pleased with myself because I didn't scream. Our parents didn't appreciate the four-wheeler like we did. Though, they did have some cause for concern, since we never wore helmets and drove it as fast as it could go.
Then there were hay tunnels. Hay tunnels were the best and the worst. We would build tunnels out of the couple hundred hay bales in the barn, making "secret" rooms here and there. One time we actually made three different levels! I way did not want to admit I was claustrophobic, so I would just shut my eyes, take a deep breath, and hang on to the persons feet in front of me so I wouldn't lose my way. Though there were several large rooms, most of the tunnels were only high enough to crawl through on your stomach. I usually was fine, unless someone decided it would be fun to put two or three bales on top of the entrances. Never would I show I was scared out of my wits, they would have thought I was a sissy!
I didn't realize until a few years ago how much those little instances of proving myself was affecting my walk with Christ. I would be very ambitious in memorizing more bible verses than my siblings, doing more "good things", (which in my case were usually just more chores), praying more often and overall just being "more spiritual". Though those things in themselves are to be incouraged in any person, my reason for doing them was wrong. And I wasn't doing them all just for show, I geuinely wanted to do things for Christ, though I was going about it the wrong way. [a-hem..] Then I read this:
"Beware of practicing your righteousness before men, to be noticed by them;otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven." Matt. 6:1-8
I was so glad God gave me this verse... I was tired of doing things just for the sake of doing them!
"God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but
the Lord looks at the heart."1 Sam. 16:5-7
1 comment:
Amber, maybe it is a second-born instinct, but I can understand your desire to prove yourself. That is pretty amazing though, I don't think I would be as brave as you even to prove a point. That takes a lot of determination!
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