Category Archives: self esteem

The Truck

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Worth comes from how much someone is willing to pay for something.

One thing that has always struck me about working with teenagers is their tendency toward self-loathing.  We’ve often had times of self-expression, where the students have the opportunity to write down their struggles.  Inevitably, more than one will write something like, “I loathe myself.” 

But I don’t think that this is just a teenage struggle; I just happen to work with teenagers.  My guess is that were I to give adults the same opportunity, they might write similar sorts of things.

The issue is our struggle with self-worth: we don’t think we’re worth a whole lot.  But where does our worth come from?  Please humor a simple illustration.

Let’s say that you’re crossing the street, when out of nowhere, a truck drives straight in your direction.  It looks as if the truck is going to hit you.  Then from the back of you, someone pushes you out of the way, just in time.  You get shoved to the ground; you are shaken, but unharmed.  You look back over your shoulder and see the person who saved you lying on the ground.  Though you survived, he did not.  The truck took his life instead of yours.

Now, how much is your life worth?  According to what just happened, you are now worth the life of one person.  One person had to give his life in order to preserve yours.  Your life is worth at least his life.  And if you think about it, that’s quite a bit. 

How much something is worth comes from what someone is willing to pay for it. 

This man was willing to pay for your life with his life.  This means that your life is worth one, whole life—which is priceless.  Even if before you crossed the street you felt pretty worthless, you can’t say that now.  So long as you’re safely on the other side of the street and there’s a man lying facedown in the middle of it by the truck, you’ve got new worth.  For the rest of your life, you have to “live with” the knowledge that you are worth the life of another. 

God saw you trying to cross from this life to the next, and then he saw the truck.  He came to our streets to push us out of the way.  He died on the cross in order to save us. 

Now how much are you worth?

You are worth the value of the Son of God.  No matter where you walk from here or how you feel today, that is the price tag hanging over your head.  You are worth the Son of God. 

Worth comes from how much someone is willing to pay for something.  God was willing to pay with the life of his own Son in order to purchase you for himself.  You can never say that you are worthless; I’m afraid that God would strongly disagree with you. 

Our worth does not come from our accomplishments, neither does it diminish from our failures.  We have an “alien worth,” which comes from outside of us.  Our worth comes from the cross, bought with the blood of Jesus. 

Do you loathe yourself?  Perhaps you don’t know how much you’re worth.  May you live the rest of your days knowing your extreme worth and feeling the incredible love that God has for you. 

© 2010 by Samuel Kee

Lotto Ticket

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Mr. Steiner always told us in high school art class, “Take risks!”  Art is a risky business; when you put it all out there (or down on a canvas), you risk rejection, judgment, and failure.  Maybe nobody has done it that way before; maybe they’ll laugh at your attempt to create something meaningful or beautiful; maybe you’ll “prove” that you really don’t have much to offer, once we see it in black-and-white.  Yes, art is risky, because being yourself is risky.

Will Hunting is a mathematical genius in the 1997 film Good Will Hunting.  Will is also a very troubled and “at-risk” young adult, who constantly gets in trouble with the law for violence.  A local math professor at one of Boston’s finest universities takes Will under his wing, providing him with both counseling and opportunities.  It isn’t long before Will is offered high profile math jobs with the US government.  Will, nonetheless, prefers to work with his buddies from Southie as a laborer on a demolition crew.

Upon hearing about his refusal to accept these better positions, Will’s best friend, Chuckie, sets him straight.  He basically acknowledges that for some people, working on the demolition crew is just fine, but for others, it’s a waste of time.  “You are sitting on a winning lottery ticket,” Chuckie says.  “But you’re too much of a [coward] to cash it in…I’d do anything to have what you got.”  Then he concludes by telling Will that staying with the old gang is a waste of time—it’s even insulting to the rest of the guys, who have no choice but to work for the crew. 

Though he was a genius, Will was afraid to take risks, settling for what was comfortable.  So he sat on his “winning lottery ticket,” refusing to be himself and do what he was made to do.

I am not saying at this point, “Follow your dream.”  That is not what this post is about.  It’s about taking the risk of being yourself.  Put yourself out there, even when it’s not comfortable.  We are all sitting on a winning lottery ticket.  God has made us each special, with unique abilities and passions.  The trouble is that we settle for what’s comfortable, under the disguise of “that’s what’s best.” 

You is what’s best.      

© 2010 by Samuel Kee

The Post

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God used him anyway.

When I am falsely accused, I take it to heart.  It’s hard for me just to “move on” and “forget about it.”  I tend to think, that unless I get this cleared up, then God cannot use me.

Then I remember Joseph, the biblical figure whose life takes up the last dozen chapters of Genesis.  In the future, I’ll write about Joseph and accomplishing dreams, but today, I’d like to write about Joseph and false accusations. 

In Genesis 39, Joseph was accused of attempting to rape the wife of Potiphar, who was Pharaoh’s chief officer.  To add insult, she leveled this accusation against him when it was she who was trying to seduce him!  In fact, he maintained his integrity and fled from her sexual advances.  Trying to cover up her exploits, she cried out in a loud voice, “He came in to lie with me!”  Soon the guards arrived and did with Joseph what is done with someone who tries to violate royalty: Joseph was put in prison.

The chapters of the story go by, and after many years, astonishingly, Joseph rises to power.  He manages not only to be released from prison, but also to secure the second most powerful seat in the kingdom of Egypt.  Because God was with Joseph, he was able to use his abilities to save Egypt during the great famine.  Through a page-turning series of events, Joseph is also restored to his own family, who hated him and sold him into slavery many years before.  By saving his family, Joseph saves the people of Israel, too.  On top of all that, Joseph was given a fine Egyptian woman to marry and they had two boys. 

Here’s the thing that startles me when I read this story: nowhere does it say that Joseph cleared his name.  As you read, you fully expect there to be a sentence or two which says something like, “After Joseph did these amazing things to save the earth, everyone realized that Joseph did not commit this crime against Pharaoh’s wife.”  Or how about this: “Then it dawned on everyone, after seeing how much God was with Joseph, that it was Potiphar’s wife who was to blame—the collection of pilfered Hebrew tunics in her wardrobe, aside.”

For all we know, Joseph died with this wildly nasty accusation against his name.  He was forever known as (and pardon my crudeness), “Joseph the Rapist.”  Yet God used him anyway.

People might have said or believed rotten things about you that simply were not true.  God can use you anyway.  You don’t have to clear your name to be effective.  Our reputations do not stop God; he can use us anyway, despite the hurts that have been leveled against us.

As I see it, Joseph could have reacted to these accusations in a couple of unhealthy ways.  First, he could have gotten revenge.  Of course, that wouldn’t have gotten him anywhere, for he would have stayed in prison and not saved all of Egypt and Israel.  Second, and more subtle, he could have turned the reason for his existence into a quest for clearing his name.  He could have spent the rest of his bitter years trying to convince everyone that he was not who they said he was, allowing himself to be defined by his enemies. 

Either of these self-absorbed reactions would have derailed his dream and God’s purpose for his life.  Like a dog chained to a post, he wouldn’t have gotten very far and the ground beneath him would have been foul.

Instead, Joseph learned to free himself from the post and leave it behind.  Though the post never went away, he went away from it.  Though the post would always be a part of his past, God had other plans for his future. 

My encouragement to you is to free yourself from the post.  Your life doesn’t have to revolve around it, as if chained like a dog.  I do not pretend to underestimate the accusations or actions done against you; I am not suggesting that you pretend that the post is not there.  But I am pointing you to the astonishing power of God, which can use us despite our posts.

That is the marvel of God’s grace; God can leave the post and free you at the same time.  God can do amazing things through you even within the atmosphere of wrongful accusations against you—that is what makes it so breathtaking. 

© 2010 by Samuel Kee

(Please note my new blog address: www.hopestandsblog.com.)

You’re Beautiful

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Starry Night Over the Rhone (Van Gogh)

Yesterday I attended a lecture given by Bruce Stephenson, author and curator of the Adler Planetarium in Chicago.  Stephenson wrote a pretty obscure (and thus expensive!) book on the German astronomer Johannes Kepler (1571-1630).  His lecture drew upon Kepler’s ideas about the “harmonic laws” of the universe.  It was all quite abstract and technical, and I may get some of the details wrong, but I’ll try my best.  

Kepler wrote, “At last…I brought it into the light, and beyond what I had ever been able to hope, I laid hold of Truth itself: I found among the motions of the heavens the whole nature of Harmony.”[1] 

Kepler found music in the universe, in other words.  You need to know a little about what music theory teaches us to understand this.  Music theory teaches us how certain chords work together to produce harmony.  Each harmony has a specific chord ratio, like 1:2 or 2:3.  When Kepler analyzed the elliptical orbits of the planets, he discovered the same harmonic chord ratios in their arch speeds, like 1:2, 2:3, etc.  Both the fact that the planets travelled in ellipses, rather than perfect circles, and the fact of their changing orbiting speeds, made it possible for Kepler to hear music in the universe.  The planets performed a symphony, each playing a different part, working together to create the harmony of the heavens.  Kepler believed that the universe was built on this harmonic law, which was an expounding of his third planetary law.[2] 

So why do I say all of this?  I say it because of a young woman I had coffee with yesterday.  She’s just one of the extraordinary people I get to spend time with as a pastor—I would even go so far as to say, a “harmonic person.”  When I look at her life, I see harmony and precision.  But she, like so many of us, looks in the mirror and tends to hear cacophony.  

Often we think that our lives just drone on, offering little beauty or harmony.  We fail to see our purpose, much less our perfection.  

Let’s call Kepler’s Harmonic Law to the witness stand.  If the invisible orbits and rates of the planets can sing music into the life of one, eccentric 17th Century German astronomer, how much more might our lives shout music into the heart of God, who is our Master Composer? 

God hears every bit of our lives.  Even at their worst, we are living, breathing, melody machines.  Our lives create music for our Maker—that’s how he designed us.  You can’t get away from it, either.  Even when you weep, God hears it as a bow on the strings of a precious soul.  When you say, “I have no beauty,” you make a beautiful noise.  You were made in God’s image, you are perfect, and you cannot escape yourself.  

When you were born, a great symphony erupted.  Every second that you’re alive is another opportunity to fill the world with the music of you.  You are a sound and a voice that this world was meant to hear.  Yours is a tone and harmony that we cannot do without.  

Let me close with these moving words from one of my favorite authors, Henry Nouwen: 

Community [or humanity] is like a large mosaic.  Each little piece seems so insignificant.  One piece is bright red, another cold blue or dull green, another warm purple, another sharp yellow, another shining gold.  Some look precious, others ordinary.  Some look valuable, others worthless.  Some look gaudy, others delicate.  As individual stones, we can do little with them except compare them and judge their beauty and value.  When, however, all these little stones are brought together in one big mosaic portraying the face of Christ, who would ever question the importance of any one of them?  If one of them, even the least spectacular one, is missing, the face is incomplete.  Together in the one mosaic, each little stone is indispensable and makes a unique contribution to the glory of God.  That’s community, a fellowship of little people who together make God visible in the world.[3] 

 

[1] Bruce Stevenson, The Music of the Heavens. Kepler’s Harmonic Astronomy. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 128.  [2] Kepler’s first law stated that planets orbited in ellipses, rather than perfect circles.  His second planetary law stated that the orbit speed changed depending on where the planet was at in its journey around the sun.  [3] Henri Nouwen, Can You Drink the Cup (Notre Dame: Ave Marie Press, 1996), 58.

© 2010 by Samuel Kee

A Life Tied in Nots

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David and Goliath (Degas)

I did it again, I made a new friend.  Only this time, I have actually spoken with him (confused? Click here.)  Here’s how it happened.

Some friends recommended that I listen to an online sermon, given by Justin Graves, pastor of Foundations Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  (You can watch it here, just click on the “July 4” message).  It is a very powerful and stirring message—and those who know me, know that my standards are fairly high.  I was so moved by his words, that I called him on the phone and spoke with him about it.  Justin was extremely receptive and kind to me, speaking with me at length over the phone. 

His July 4 message was based on 1 Samuel 17, David and Goliath, a passage that I had been thinking a lot about on my own just prior to hearing about Justin.  The passage details all of the “Nots” that David had in his life.  The Nots are those people who tell David that he can Not do what he desires to do.  The Nots are those who say, “You can Not, will Not, and should Not do this.”  The Nots hold up to our faces what we have Not—experience, success, gifting, support, pedigree, and so forth.

David, you can Not do this, you’re only a youth.  David, Goliath has been trained in warfare since he was very young and you have Not any experience, for you’re only a shepherd.  David, you have Not any armor.  You have Not any support from the King, your family, or the other soldiers.  David, you have Not any weapons.  You have Not even the size to fight, for you are small in stature, especially compared with this giant.  They tied David up in Nots.

David’s passion for God guided him through the Nots and undid them along the way.  With just some stones and a bursting heart, he hunted his dream and tore through his Nots.  It is never cliché to remind our tangled souls of Paul’s haunting question in Romans 8, “If God is for us, then who can be against us?”

Coincidentally, my son is watching Robots (2005) as I write this post, and I just heard one of the characters state his life’s motto: “Never try, then never fail!”  This is precisely how the Nots tie us up, they keep us from going after the giant, from trying, from leaning on God when Goliath’s shadow eclipses.  We stick to playing defense instead of trying to advance on offense.

What Nots are in your life, keeping you tied up?  The giant mocks on the horizon and nobody is doing anything about it.  If you listen to the Nots, then the giant will remain.  Then you will be twice defeated, both by the giant and by those who say that you are Not able to succeed.

Personally, I have had a lot of Nots lately.  “In moments like these,” Justin said to me over the phone, “You need to listen to the voice of God more than the voice of the Nots, for they will keep you tied up and you’ll never find out what you’re really made of.”

So what do you say?  Shall we show the world what we’re really made of?  Or shall we keep listening to the Nots?

© 2010 by Samuel Kee

Stand Up

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This tears me apart, because I love you.

Steve was a Juvenile Offender in the Department of Corrections.  Rich was a pastor who led Bible studies for the kids in the Corrections facility.  One day he went in for his usual small group Bible study.  But before he could see any of the kids, the department head, Bob, pulled Rich into a staff meeting.  Bob told Rich that he could not talk with Steve today, since Steve was both suicidal and homicidal.  Steve was locked in his room and no one was allowed to see him.  Rich agreed and went and met with some of the other kids.  As Rich was being escorted out by Bob, right as he was about to leave the building, Rich heard God say to him, “You’ve got to go see Steve.”  Rich turned to Bob, the one who had forbid him to see Steve, and said, “I’ve got to go see Steve.”  Bob said that he wouldn’t argue with a man of God and let Rich go into Steve’s room. Bob locked the door behind Rich and there he stood, looking at Steve, who was facing the wall on the opposite side of the room.  Rich didn’t know what to say; he only knew that God wanted him there.  Rich saw a piece of paper on Steve’s bed and assumed it was a note from Steve’s girlfriend.  To break the ice, Rich picked it up and started to read it.  He found out that it was really a suicide note.  

Rich then asked Steve how he was going to do it.  Steve showed him a butcher knife that he stole from the kitchen.  Rich called out to Steve, saying, “Steve, that tears me apart, because I love you!”  Steve lunged toward Rich, dropping the knife as he came.  He grabbed hold of Rich and hugged him with all he had.  Through tears, Steve said, “I can’t remember when someone has told me that they loved me!”  And that moment was the beginning of great healing for Steve.[1]  

All because one man stood up for him.  One man said, “No!  I need to go tell Steve how much I love him!”  One man did not want to leave Steve alone, trapped in his room.  One man broke through, so to speak, and let Steve know that he was standing for him.     It makes all the difference in the world if someone stands up for you.   

We are Steve, locked in our conditions.  We lock others out and we lock God out.  We feel trapped and do not want to go on living.  But suddenly, Jesus appears though the doors are locked.  He stands up in front of us and holds out his scarred hand to us.  He cries out, “This tears me apart, because I love you!”    

(Excerpt taken from my book Hope Stands: Ten Reasons Why You Must Not Give Up.)  

[1] Adapted from The Youth Workers Guide to Helping Teenagers in Crisis by Rich Van Pelt and Jim Hancock (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005), 66-68.

© 2010 by Samuel Kee

Broken Mirrors

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You cannot see who you really are.

I sat and listened as Katie (not her real name) poured out her heart out to me, telling me about her childhood.  Her biological father was abusive and eventually her parents divorced.  But Katie had to stay with her father, because her mom did not want her.  Her dad eventually married again and then got another divorce.  Then he decided that he did not want her, either.  So Katie was adopted by her step-mom, from her dad’s second failed marriage, since neither of her biological parents wanted her. 

All of Katie’s life had been a fight.  She had low self-esteem.  She thought that she was ugly, though she was not.  She thought that she was dumb, though she was not.  She thought that she was unlovable, though she was not.  Suffering found her wherever she went.  She was abused physically, sexually, and emotionally; she was abandoned and she was broken. 

Broken.  That word stood out to me as I listened to Katie.  Then God put a thought in my mind.

“Katie,” I said to her.  “It seems to me that you have been surrounded by broken mirrors your whole life.”  She waited to hear more.  “We look into mirrors to see who we are,” I continued.  “But you are surrounded by broken mirrors.  These mirrors are broken people and experiences and hurtful actions that reflect back to you a poor image.  When you look into the mirror of your parents, you get a broken reflection, since they are broken.  Every mirror in your life is broken.  And you cannot see who you really are.  All you see is the person reflected out of their brokenness.  And that’s not who Katie really is.  You need to find a mirror that is not broken.  Then you will see who you truly are.”   

A strange thing happens to us when we suffer.  If we suffer long enough and hard enough, the pain becomes a part of our identity.  The brokenness we experience turns into the broken person we see in the mirror.  Pain becomes the person.  Instead of merely having problems, we feel that we are the problem.  Katie did not just have bad parents, she felt that she was bad.  She began to make huge identity statements about herself: “I am unlovable.”  “I am unwanted.”  “I am the problem.”  She could not define herself outside of the evil things done to her.  Not only were her clothes wet with suffering, but so was her soul. 

When we look into broken mirrors, we see a broken person staring back at us.  And if a broken mirror is the only one we have, then we begin to think that we really are broken.  “It’s not just the mirror, it’s me!” we believe.  Our identity shifts and we no longer say, “I am loved,” or “I am smart,” or even, “I am Katie.”  We say much worse things.  We say broken things.  We say awful things.  We turn ourselves into monsters.  “I am pathetic.”  “I am an idiot.”  “I am worthless.”

When all we see is brokenness, after a while, we turn into a “problem” rather than a person.  What do you do with a problem?  You destroy it. 

Those are the thoughts that Katie, and perhaps you, have experienced.  But remember, you need another mirror.  You need a mirror that is not broken.  You cannot make an accurate identity statement about yourself when you only gaze into a broken mirror.  You need an unbroken mirror to find out the truth, to see who you really are.  

(Excerpt taken from my book Hope Stands: Ten Reasons Why You Must Not Give Up.)

© 2010 by Samuel Kee