Note to Self: Don't Host a Game Show
So I risked, stepped out of my comfort zone, did something different. As a member of our church's World Missions Committee, I present several updates in a year. Usually I stick with a written script and present. And usually it all comes out appearing professional, clear and concise.
Last Sunday I changed it up. I decided to practice speaking more than reading. Part of my presentation was promoting a prayer campaign for a youth short-term missions team to a nearby city. I planned to call them up and ask each of them a question through a random draw, just to illustrate being prepared, on the spot, to give an answer to why you believe what you believe. The night before, I prepared the draw slips and chose a container to draw from. I practiced my speech the morning of the presentation.
Presentation time arrived. I stepped away from my notes and spoke. I fumbled through some details and sounded less eloquent than usually. But it was acceptable. I called up the missions team. I struggled with drawing names and passing the microphone around. I read a question and then drew one name. The youth answered. I drew another name. I received a blank stare, as the young lady looked at me with a puzzled gaze. I become confused and answered, "This is you, right?" There was a nervous nod. I realized she didn't know her question. So I repeated it. I followed the same procedure for the next two youth, using my asking pattern of reading a question, drawing name one, drawing name two. Again, the second youth was puzzled over his question. This time the youth pastor repeated it. Sadly, by this time, I was not really listening to any youth answer (isn't that awful!), as I was critiquing my presentation style and wondering if the audience thought I was a buffoon. I thought to myself, "Okay, last question. Let me make it clear that everyone is answering the last question." I did and I drew the remaining three names. Two youth answered. The pastor was last, so I said, "Last but not least..." Then they all stared back at me, with silly smiles, trying to hint that I've forgotten something. Or someone.
"This girl hasn't answered yet," the pastor responded. I stood aghast. I turned to the audience with my mouth gaping, realizing I forgot someone. I, Mrs. Detailed, forgot someone! I, Mrs. Organized, miscounted the team the night before and was short one draw slip. I apologized and the answering of the questions continued.
The team exited the stage. I turned back to my audience, humbled, slightly embarrassed. I did my best to pull a recovery (which your Daddy said I did very well). I said something like this:
I apologize that I forgot someone. Often when I prepare for these presentations, I pray that God will be glorified in spite of my imperfections. I am a perfectionist, so it is good for me to sometimes not be perfect on stage. Also, I need eight prayer partners instead of seven. I am a Math Teacher. I can add, most of the time.
My confession brought some chuckles across the audience. And the rest of the presentation, where I updated on the work of a Missionary, I stuck to my script.
I sat down. Your Daddy encouraged me that I did a good job. I mouthed the words to him, "I forgot someone!" Tears filled my eyes and I choked back the desire to cry. He whispered back, "It's okay!"
After service, I approached the young lady I forgot, and expressed to her how sorry I was and asked if she would forgive me. She was so very gracious and said it was no problem at all. After service several people encouraged me, including our lead pastor. I confessed to our pastor how I struggle with being perfect and how experiences such as these are difficult for me, but so very good, as it teaches me that God loves me even though I am not perfect. "And it keeps us humble," our pastor added. I agreed.
When I go through an experience like this, part of me concludes, "See what happens when you take a risk? You screw up. Stick to the tried, tested and true. It is safer."
Last night, your Daddy and I watched Maze Runner, a story about young men trapped in a maze for three years. The characters do not know why they are trapped or who even sent them to the maze. But most of the group has accepted the maze as their home, forever. Except the main character, who starts questioning the system. After all, if you don't question the system, challenge what has been done and take risks, you'll never get out of the maze.
I believe that is true about my life. If I never question why I do things, challenge the way I approach tasks, push my limits and take risks, I may never grow as a person and move beyond who I am today. I'll be stuck in my own maze, running around in circles, doing the usual safe things, never growing, never experiencing the lessons the come from failure and success.
Kids, I pray that our home will be a place where you feel comfortable to take risks, knowing that God always loves you and knowing that you have a soft place to land here at home in the event you fail. I pray especially for me, that I will not be a Mother of Condemnation, but rather a Mother of Grace. While I expect you to work hard and offer your best effort in the things you attempt, I hope and pray that I will not expect you to be perfect.
So, do I regret the presentation approach last Sunday? No. I think it was beneficial for the youth to see that I am fallible. I think it was good for our congregation to see me humbly apologize.
Though, note to self: Don't take on a career as a Game Show Host. THAT is just TOO risky.
Last Sunday I changed it up. I decided to practice speaking more than reading. Part of my presentation was promoting a prayer campaign for a youth short-term missions team to a nearby city. I planned to call them up and ask each of them a question through a random draw, just to illustrate being prepared, on the spot, to give an answer to why you believe what you believe. The night before, I prepared the draw slips and chose a container to draw from. I practiced my speech the morning of the presentation.
Presentation time arrived. I stepped away from my notes and spoke. I fumbled through some details and sounded less eloquent than usually. But it was acceptable. I called up the missions team. I struggled with drawing names and passing the microphone around. I read a question and then drew one name. The youth answered. I drew another name. I received a blank stare, as the young lady looked at me with a puzzled gaze. I become confused and answered, "This is you, right?" There was a nervous nod. I realized she didn't know her question. So I repeated it. I followed the same procedure for the next two youth, using my asking pattern of reading a question, drawing name one, drawing name two. Again, the second youth was puzzled over his question. This time the youth pastor repeated it. Sadly, by this time, I was not really listening to any youth answer (isn't that awful!), as I was critiquing my presentation style and wondering if the audience thought I was a buffoon. I thought to myself, "Okay, last question. Let me make it clear that everyone is answering the last question." I did and I drew the remaining three names. Two youth answered. The pastor was last, so I said, "Last but not least..." Then they all stared back at me, with silly smiles, trying to hint that I've forgotten something. Or someone.
"This girl hasn't answered yet," the pastor responded. I stood aghast. I turned to the audience with my mouth gaping, realizing I forgot someone. I, Mrs. Detailed, forgot someone! I, Mrs. Organized, miscounted the team the night before and was short one draw slip. I apologized and the answering of the questions continued.
The team exited the stage. I turned back to my audience, humbled, slightly embarrassed. I did my best to pull a recovery (which your Daddy said I did very well). I said something like this:
I apologize that I forgot someone. Often when I prepare for these presentations, I pray that God will be glorified in spite of my imperfections. I am a perfectionist, so it is good for me to sometimes not be perfect on stage. Also, I need eight prayer partners instead of seven. I am a Math Teacher. I can add, most of the time.
My confession brought some chuckles across the audience. And the rest of the presentation, where I updated on the work of a Missionary, I stuck to my script.
I sat down. Your Daddy encouraged me that I did a good job. I mouthed the words to him, "I forgot someone!" Tears filled my eyes and I choked back the desire to cry. He whispered back, "It's okay!"
After service, I approached the young lady I forgot, and expressed to her how sorry I was and asked if she would forgive me. She was so very gracious and said it was no problem at all. After service several people encouraged me, including our lead pastor. I confessed to our pastor how I struggle with being perfect and how experiences such as these are difficult for me, but so very good, as it teaches me that God loves me even though I am not perfect. "And it keeps us humble," our pastor added. I agreed.
When I go through an experience like this, part of me concludes, "See what happens when you take a risk? You screw up. Stick to the tried, tested and true. It is safer."
Last night, your Daddy and I watched Maze Runner, a story about young men trapped in a maze for three years. The characters do not know why they are trapped or who even sent them to the maze. But most of the group has accepted the maze as their home, forever. Except the main character, who starts questioning the system. After all, if you don't question the system, challenge what has been done and take risks, you'll never get out of the maze.
I believe that is true about my life. If I never question why I do things, challenge the way I approach tasks, push my limits and take risks, I may never grow as a person and move beyond who I am today. I'll be stuck in my own maze, running around in circles, doing the usual safe things, never growing, never experiencing the lessons the come from failure and success.
Kids, I pray that our home will be a place where you feel comfortable to take risks, knowing that God always loves you and knowing that you have a soft place to land here at home in the event you fail. I pray especially for me, that I will not be a Mother of Condemnation, but rather a Mother of Grace. While I expect you to work hard and offer your best effort in the things you attempt, I hope and pray that I will not expect you to be perfect.
So, do I regret the presentation approach last Sunday? No. I think it was beneficial for the youth to see that I am fallible. I think it was good for our congregation to see me humbly apologize.
Though, note to self: Don't take on a career as a Game Show Host. THAT is just TOO risky.