If Confidence was a…
If Confidence was an object, I think it would be water.
I find when I attempt to grab hold of Confidence, it slips right through my fingers.
It’s mysterious and difficult for me to grasp.
I fail. I flail. Flustered.
I look around with wild eyes at everyone else walking to and fro around me with this mysterious Confidence held tightly in their hands.
Tight in their hands like a solid object. A smartphone. A Candy bar. A lover’s hand.
But it escapes me. I long for it, grasp for it, pretend for it, run for it.
The same type of running that happens on a treadmill. Running and running and running but never getting anywhere.
And I stand there, feeling naked in front of all my peers who grasp hold of this solid object called Confidence.
If Confidence was an object it would be clothes. Something that people wear.
I look around with wide, frightened eyes and see people wear it all around me.
Them, fully clothed.
Ashamed. Alienated. Unaware of when this happened.
Some wear it like a shirt, others like a turban, or a cloak, a Sari, a Hijab. They drape it around themselves and adorn themselves with its beauty. They wear it like a tiara on their head, proudly prancing around.Their confidence drips from them like golden honey. Beauty in cultures and in people. I’m blown away.
I’m blown away. I’m blown away and totally unguarded. I’m startled. Bewildered. I’m blown away like wind.
When I was growing up, Confidences was not something that occurred to me. I didn’t know you had to acquire or wear it. I didn’t put it on and strut it around, I didn’t hold it in my hand like a lover’s hand or smart phone. I was plain. I am plain. I was not special and did not believe I could do anything worthy. I assumed everyone thought like me. Confidence never entered my mind until I was thrust into the world. The great big world of Self-Possession, Convictions, Assertiveness, Courage, and Poise.
Confidence. The world of selling yourself like a whore hoping someone believes you can do as much as you tell them you can. The world of turning tricks in interviews for people you don’t know in settings you’ve never been in, talking in politely masked words about your own greatness. A world of feigned piety.
The world of thin bodies and sharp minds and strong women and beauty.
The world where assertiveness and aggressiveness are positive things and indecisiveness is akin to ignorance.
The world where people partner up and trade friendships for romance.
The world where people quit playing sports and start going to the gym.
The world where we don’t write for fun, read for fun, run for fun. We do. We do. We… Serious.
I felt lost. I felt lost. I… feel lost.
I feel lost until I realize not where my Confidence lies but in Whom my true Confidence lies.
My True Confidence is in a Person. This person is Creative and Powerful. He who doesn’t have to mask His words with feigned intelligence, He IS intelligence. He’s not a Person who has to do good to make people like Him. He IS Good and still at times hardly anyone likes Him. He knows what it’s like to be an outcast, forgotten, trodden on, betrayed. He knows what it’s like to be made humble and serve others. He knows what it’s like to have two desires in your heart at one time and struggling between them so much that it makes you sweat. Ambivalence. He understands my tears and knows me intimately. BUT He’s also a warrior, a King, a Lover. He doesn’t accumulate wealth because He IS wealth.
He gives me my helmet, my breastplate, my shield, my sword…
He makes my hands strong and makes me bend a bow of bronze.
He gives me shoes that help me relate to people and a perspective that radiates me with joy.
He makes me Beautiful, because He IS beauty.
He makes me Free. Free from expectations and pleasing people. Free from hurt and anger. Free from bitterness and loneliness. Free.
He is my Confidence.
If Confidence was a…. person.
If Confidences was a person, it would be Jesus.
My Forgiver, Redeemer, Strong Tower.
(This could be a spoken word poem or a poem read for fun… Maybe one day I’ll make a video of me doing it as a spoken word… )