Saturday, March 6, 2010


Confession time. I can't live the lie any longer.

I don't know the first thing about basketball.

Oh, I know that the ball goes in the basket. Aaaand that's about it. But I led a group of 100 junior highers to believe that I was an authority on the subject.

A few years back I got a call about a long-term sub job as a P.E. teacher at a junior high. Let's just say that the job for which I am least qualified on God's green earth is "P.E. Teacher." At a junior high, no less.

Thankfully, my sweet husband Justin used to coach basketball. So I knew he could hook me up when I walked through the door, tossed my keys on the counter and said, "Okay--I need you to teach me how to do a lay-up."

So the next day I announced to a bunch of acne-prone individuals, "Alright, so here's how you do a lay-up."

It was all very Cyrano de Bergerac.

I spent the two weeks of that sub job faking my way through lay-up lessons, dribbling drills and jump shots. I led everyone to believe I was a b-ball expert, but I knew I was nothing but an impostor.

I've been there in that "I'm an impostor" place since then, too. I've wanted to appear to have it all together, to be able to juggle it all and do it with excellence. Trying to be a wife who brings Justin good, not harm, all the days of his life. Wanting desperately to expose my children to truth every chance I get. Getting my house ready for Bible study. Doing my Bible study. Facilitating said Bible study. Figuring out child care. Subbing. Tutoring. Couples' small group. Women's ministry. Speaking ministry. Maintaining friendships both near and far. All in the name of making dents in this world for His Kingdom and wanting to be sure I live so as not to "bury my talents." So I put on my happy face and I go, go, go.

But my mask fell off on Wednesday night in the form of an "ugly cry" in front of 10 women.

It was terribly uncomfortable for me to break. Publicly. To find myself saying outloud "I can't do it all." With so much competing for my time, I've loaded too much onto my plate. But Heaven forbid that it would be so much that I would end up dropping that overloaded plate in such a public place.

I want to be real. I'm not doing anyone any good by leading people to believe I've got it all together. That is so frighteningly far from the truth. So after my Wednesday night declaration that I can't do it all, I very intentionally took one thing off my plate and let out a mighty big sigh of relief.

We can't do it all--which is tough when it's all good stuff, isn't it? And yet we are loved...Loved by a God who is fine with you and me being broken jars of clay. We're adored by the One whose power is revealed as perfect in the smack dab middle of our weaknesses.

Thea Nelson doesn't have it all together. There--I've said it. And she still doesn't know anything about basketball, either. :)

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