Dust to dust

Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the whole world,

    from everlasting to everlasting you are God. (Psalm 90:2)

On Sunday evening, I spent time with friends studying Psalm 90. God is eternal. People, by contrast, are like grass that springs up in the morning and is dry and withered by evening. I was comforted to think of my frailty in the light of God’s eternity. It was like gazing at a sky full of stars, looking up at a majestic mountain range, or standing at the edge of the endlessly colored depths of the Grand Canyon. Peace can slip in when our smallness is placed next to the vast and glorious. 

On Wednesday evening, I walked up the aisle of the stained glass chapel and received ashes on my forehead: Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. Again, I knew peace in the exposure of my weakness and need. 

It can be a relief to acknowledge that we are frail.

ASH WEDNESDAY AND THE IMPOSTER SYNDROME

The imposter syndrome is “a psychological pattern in which one doubts one's accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a fraud.”  

The inner voice of imposter syndrome can sound like this:

“I must not fail.” (Success paradoxically can add to anxiety, as it increases the pressure of responsible visibility.)

“I am a fake.”  (I’m afraid for the day when I will be exposed for projecting an image of being more competent than I really am.). 

“I have to be the best, perfect, a superhero.” 

Imposter syndrome is associated with anxiety, depression, and shame.

Lurking under the feelings of imposter syndrome is the question “Am I good enough?” I’m driven to keep up a pretense that makes it appear that I am, but underneath, I am terrified that it’s a lie that will someday be exposed. 

There are different ways to think about imposter syndrome. But for today how about this:

What if we experience imposter syndrome because we actually are frauds? What if our lurking fears that we are trying to live a lie is because we are trying to live a lie? 

Satan enticed Eve to be an imposter–to pretend to be something that she was not created to be. The disasters that plague the world started with humans pursuing the lie that we can be like God. But we are not God. And trying to be God brings with it terrible burdens.

Satan entices all of us as he enticed Eve, holding before our eyes a vision of being like God. He invites us to independence, authonomy, and the praise and power that come from the kingdoms of the world. We’re all susceptible to this temptation. Jesus was the only one who completely resisted it. We hunger to be self-sufficient, strong, respected and admired. We want to be like God. But deep down, we know we are dust. 

What if I were more free to say that I am weak, needy, dependent? What if I could simply acknowledge my weakness and failures (including the ways that I labor under the insecurity of trying to look better than I am)? 

What if I were content to be no more and no less than who God has made me? 

I am dependent. The breath of life comes from outside of me. He is God; I am human. He is vast; I am small. He is faithful; I am fickle. He holds my life in his hands, and I can rest in peace.   

“Humility relieves you of the awful stress of trying to be superior all the time.”(David Brooks, The Road to Character)

 
 
blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.