I hate feeling foolish. Appearing foolish is even worse.
Case in point (a long, convoluted one at that): My son’s show choir will be performing this weekend, three times, Friday night, Saturday afternoon and Saturday evening. Tables are available for purchase, so I paid my money well in advance and made my reservations for the Friday evening performance.
So, a week or so ago, I happen to glance at my calendar and realize my other son has a basketball game scheduled that same evening, earlier in the evening, but the same night. So I change our reservations accordingly, this time for Saturday evening, not the most convenient night for us, but certainly doable.
Then I discover another potential conflict with the Saturday evening performance so I request the Saturday matinee. Request granted.
A day or two after that, I receive my other son’s basketball tournament bracket and realize there’s a possibility his team will be playing at the same time as the Saturday afternoon performance. Another email, another request. I decide we can juggle the potential Saturday evening conflicts so we make arrangements for a table that evening.
Are you confused yet? You should try being me, or the nice gentleman enduring my multiple emails and obvious disorganization, kindly changing my reservations over and over (and over) again…
So, this morning I find out that the original conflict, my oldest son’s game Friday night, is non existent. That’s right, HE WILL NOT BE PLAYING BASKETBALL FRIDAY NIGHT. In other words, WE HAVE NO CONFLICT WHATSOEVER WITH THE FRIDAY NIGHT PERFORMANCE. (Yes, I’m yelling, wouldn’t you?)
This was something I could have (and should have) figured out from the very beginning.
Yes, I am mad with myself. Yes, I feel (pick your adjective) embarrassed, humiliated, stupid, idiotic, and, yes, foolish.
So I sent yet another (humble, contrite) acknowledgment of my idiocy and asked for yet one more reservation change. I’ll let you how it pans out.
I hate feeling foolish. I like being in control, or at least appearing as such. I hate that my inadequacies and inefficiencies are so painfully obvious. I also hate that my inadequacies and inefficiencies make more work for someone else. I wish desperately I could handle my life (and my schedule) with ease.
I can’t. I can’t handle it. I’m not in control. I am inadequate. And as much as I rail against it, I am foolish.
It’s my pride that refuses the appearance of foolishness. It’s my pride that’s embarrassed to seem weak and stupid, though I am weak and stupid. It’s my pride that wants others to be impressed by my ability to do it all, and do it all well.
It seems the Lord is teaching me (
again still) that it is in weakness that He shows Himself strong. It is in foolishness He reveals His wisdom. In my inadequacy, I best see His adequacy…
But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” (1 Cor. 1:27-31)
If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness…Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Cor. 11:30, 12:9)