Albert Einstein may have suffered from Impostor Syndrome—the tendency for accomplished people to suspect they’re frauds. He said, “The exaggerated esteem in which my lifework is held makes me very ill at ease.” Few among us would question Einstein’s colossal contributions to physics. If he doubted his work, where do the rest of us stand?
My first roommate in college didn’t seem to want to be friends. He listened to music with his headphones on and stared at his computer all day, and nearly all night. He didn’t want to joke around or share a meal. We rarely spoke for the first few weeks. He simply didn’t want to interact.
When was the last time you lingered in silence simply to delight in the beauty of God? One Christian artist thinks that “beholding” His beauty is essential in a Christian’s life. Writer Joseph Sunde, in a blog post titled “Beauty on a Bike Ride,” quoted artist Mako Fujimura as saying: “Perhaps the greatest thing we can do as a Christian community is to behold. Behold our God. Behold His creation.”
Lorenzo Quinn’s 900-pound aluminum sculpture called “Hand of God” features a gigantic open hand with a man seated on the highest part of an upturned palm. The man appears to be troubled and his posture reflects deep discouragement. But the hand that holds him up is much larger than he is.
Kellie Haddock is a courageous woman I’ve known of and admired for more than a decade. In 2004, I first read the blog she penned following a tragic car accident that took the life of her husband and left her baby, Eli, with permanent injuries.
The familiar darkness of clinical depression rolled over Leigh as she sat on the edge of the bed holding a revolver—tormenting voices urging her to pull the trigger. As a Christian wife and mom, she knew this picture was all wrong, but the consuming illness had clouded her mind. Apart from her husband and doctor, no one knew of the daily struggle she faced. Leigh slowly put the gun down, walked out the room, and chose to begin reaching out and sharing her story with others.
My country esteems “rugged individualism”—the idea that truly strong people do things on their own. The icon of this peculiar value was the Lone Ranger, a famous fictional cowboy of radio and the silver screen, and a solitary masked hero that protected others from harm. But it’s interesting to note that the Lone Ranger was hardly alone. He had a trusty horse named Silver and a constant companion named Tonto. Because of this, the supposedly “Lone” Ranger had more friends than many people do!
In his short story “Leaf by Niggle,” J. R. R. Tolkien describes a kindhearted, perfectionistic painter who failed to complete the landscape that became his life’s work. Because he was kind, Niggle often helped his neighbors rather than work on his painting. And because he fretted over details, he only managed to paint the first leaf on the first tree. He died with apparently little to show for his life. His “one beautiful leaf” was placed in the town museum “and was noticed by a few eyes.”
Recently as I sat in a circle of leaders from our church, a woman asked a simple question, provoking rich discussion. “What are your hopes for our church?” There were several responses, for our little community has many hopes. But on that night this spilled out of me: “I hope we become more and more the kind of people who learn to resist the anxieties of this world because we believe Jesus is with us and that Jesus is doing something with us.”
Kim Nguyen was preparing for her doctoral exams in Old Testament when she learned that she would need surgery on her eyes. She should have recovered in 2 weeks, but 6 months later she still couldn’t see. She feared that her dream of teaching the Bible was slipping away. How could she write her dissertation if she couldn’t see? How would she find work to pay back her student loans?
On Christmas Eve in 1968, Apollo VIII became the first manned vehicle to circle the moon. Because it was nearly Christmas, the 3-man crew was asked to say something appropriate to mark their historic mission. From thousands of miles in outer space, Genesis 1:1-10 was broadcast to earth: “In the beginning God . . .” In his autobiography Countdown, Frank Bowman, one of the three Apollo VIII astronauts, explains why they read from the Scriptures: “There was one more impression we wanted to transmit: our feeling of closeness to the Creator of all things.”
When I visited the land of Israel, I was surprised by the small size of the Sea of Galilee. This was no sea, but merely a lake some 21 kilometers long and 13 kilometers wide. I could easily see across to the other side. How could a storm on this tiny body of water terrify the disciples? Talk about a tempest in a teapot! I scoffed at their fear—until I saw the size of an ancient boat.
If you’re unsure how to get from point A to point B, what do you do? Recently I discovered the Google Maps app. Key in your starting point, enter your ending point, and voil?! The application will get you there. I have one gripe, however. It sometimes takes me the long way to my destination because it doesn’t always factor in the latest road conditions or take into account which roads are open for shortcuts.
I remember being deeply upset and stressed out because of mounting medical bills after we had our third daughter. I couldn’t sleep for several nights as I was trying to figure out how we’d pay the bills. My muscles were tense. I was exhausted. The stress was getting to me. And so I cried out to God.
As a Chinese man, when I told my father that I was giving my children Greek names, he reminded me to make sure they would be meaningful and nice-sounding. Most important, my kids were to have the same family name. Ah, so many first names to choose from!