Mediocre

Do you ever get asked your biggest fear?

For the longest time I believed my biggest fear was ending up alone. 

But you would have never heard me admit that out loud.  This was partly out of sheer embarrassment, but also partly to avoid the inevitable conversations that would follow, given my current “single, late-twenties” status.

Last weekend though, I had a conversation with a friend; a friend who sees “dating” a little differently than I do.  Her recent breakup has her back on the prowl.  And, when a different friend mentioned a nice Mormon man she could date, she jumped on it.  I was floored.  I asked her if she was serious; she flippantly mentioned she could always “convert” (she’s a Christian, as best I know).  Her answer, and subsequent comments, signaled a desperation for finding a relationship—any relationship.  My expressed desire to wait for a quality guy was met with a “You tell me how that works out for you” and a huff.  End of conversation.

I think that might have perhaps been the moment that my previous “biggest fear” broke wide open. 

It’s definitely not "ending up alone". 

Sure, I’d like to meet someone, but ending up alone doesn’t drive my actions/decisions.  Failing to live up to my potential in any way (including binding myself to the wrong guy) does.

So then, what does drive my actions/decisions?

And then it hit me.  My biggest fear is mediocrity. 

Suddenly, pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place.  The reason why I act certain ways, why I say certain things, and even why I daydream of what I daydream about.

And while Mediocrity, at first, seems like a noble fear to have, the more I wrap my mind around it, the more selfish it becomes.  Fear of mediocrity is believing the lie that I need to do more to be valued.  To be important.  To be seen as worthy. To be desired.

That’s the opposite of contentment.  Like, 180° different. 

And since I’ve been remiss in posting, that’s what I’ve been trying to work on this year.  My word for the year is Joy.  And through the last few months, I’ve realized that contentment is where joy begins.  Perhaps contentment dissolves all the anxiety and worry, allowing a place for joy to exist.  Sort like a clean garden where plants can thrive without being strangled by weeds.  Honestly, I haven’t found it yet, so I’m really not sure.  It’s a place I’m searching for though.

Because believing that I must be “more” than I already am is to believe a lie.  To work towards great things to delight and obey God is honorable.  Desiring to do great things based on the fear of never reaching potentiality is a lie disguised as a good concept.  Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

Content in my circumstances. 

Content with my life, even if nothing ever changes. 

Content as I am right now (as God made me).

Content to be mediocre (by my standards) if that’s what God has for me.