I don’t have the same drives and ambitions. Watching sports bores me. In fact, I would rather sit around and read a book than watch the Super Bowl. I don’t know how to calculate .rbi. I don’t care who played for that one team in the game against that other team 5 years ago. My heroes were never guys that could throw small objects long distances. I was more the zeta male than the alpha.
Growing up, I felt like a misfit. I was different, and everyone knew it. I didn’t live in a caring, understanding, nurturing world. I was teased and picked on, and I couldn’t handle it. I had no self-worth, unmanned by the inability or desire to fight back. Society even said, “If you retaliate, the consequences will be worse for you than the bad guy.”
Life was to be endured, not enjoyed. I lived with grudges that could never be avenged, hatred that could never be expressed, and expectations that could never be fulfilled. These could never be released in public, and so they came out as secret sins. Worse, I couldn’t talk to anyone. I feared the consequences of confession would be worse than pretending to be clean.
The only thing I had going for me was God, but even after I was baptized, I didn’t believe I could change. I brought along my doubts and fears and anger, my hopelessness. What could I give to Jesus, or really do for him? I felt and acted helpless. I was deathly afraid to tell anyone my story; there was no good to tell. Every good work I witnessed in others made me feel worse about my inability to be a good fit.
In Celebrate Recovery, however, I found peace. I found men who share my struggles. I learned, more importantly, that I don’t have to fit in to matter. Accountability gives me the strength to stand where I would otherwise fail. In any situation, I can choose to fail alone or get the team together and win this thing. Together, we overcome.
CR has also given me a place to serve. This is a place where my different abilities are of use and appreciated. But there’s more. This is a place where, by committing to giving my all, I can drop my self-imposed barriers. I can re-learn my limitations. Much of what I knew I couldn’t do was only because I was afraid to try.
I am a misfit. I’m proud that I don’t fit this world’s mold. I’m a misfit, but I’m not unfit. I’m fit to serve, fit to write, and fit to speak. By sharing honestly, I can help a brother out of denial. By telling my story, I can open a door. I can be someone else’s strength.
Grateful Believer,
Joel