Bullseye

I recently pulled an old photocopy of a 90s Nike ad out of my Trapper Keeper (they still make them) for two reasons:

1. I'm fat.

2. My daughter has no talents.

Not really, but that is how we were feeling.

Six weeks ago I went to the 40-minute ultrasound of Baby Boy. It was a red-letter day, the pinnacle in a plain of waiting, the reward for my patience. You would think after seeing my baby's spine, face, and two kidneys with arteries going in and out of them I would have been ecstatic. I was, but I manifested it by going home and crying in my bedroom about how fat I'm getting. Yes, my body is enlarging because a human is growing inside of it. Imagine that.

It's the growth I've been praying for for 12 years but on this day of days during the view of views the devil robbed me of my much-deserved happiness because I let him come at me with the fat angle. Lying in the dark viewing skeletal baby-sized parts all I could think about was a story Greg's sales rep told us in Manhattan about his smoking hot second wife and how she worked out and drank a green smoothie every day of her pregnancy and never had postpartum or baby weight to lose. That story reminded me of all the pregnant women that run 6 mph on the treadmill next to me while I ellipt for 20 minutes at Level One hoping my round ligament doesn't pop. Which reminded me that I had just eaten a Russell Stover dark chocolate marshmallow for breakfast instead of a green smoothie and that was the precise reason I'd never be a hard body. It was an unfortunate downward spiral that showed me I still have chinks in my self-reflection armor.

A few weeks later RE confided in me that she didn't feel like she had any measurable talents worth mentioning. She could do lots of things but so many others could do them better. I could relate to her internal plight.

Like RE I was smart but not off the charts; my 4.0 wasn't weapon enough to slay the ACT. I played piano but was not Julliard-bound; I devoted ten years to finger power but my left hand was never virtuoso enough to take Chopin's "Revolution" head on. I won "Class Clown" and "Biggest Schoolie" but not the coveted Senior Superlatives award of "Best Legs." I was socially average and well-liked but never a Homecoming candidate, trophy winner, or medal wearer. I didn't change the world, I barely showed up on its roster. Or so I thought.

All of this mental defeat made me remember my Nike Ad. (You can view and print it here. Sorry for its weathered state...we've been through the war together.) I've been trying to remind my little tween, as well as myself, that the world measures with a stick that doesn't add up. And when we measure ourselves with that stick the only figure we get is comparison. And comparison is UGLY.

Yesterday I found the bridge that connected my thoughts to pure truth on the matter:

"Place the Savior, His teachings and His church at the CENTER of your life. Make sure that all decisions comply with this standard. As you walk the path of righteousness, you will grow in strength, understanding, and SELF-ESTEEM. You will discover HIDDEN TALENTS and UNKNOWN CAPACITIES. The whole course of your life may be altered for your HAPPINESS and the Lord's purposes." (emphasis added)

Thankfully I grew out of high school and blossomed in the real world. No test can substantiate it but I have an aptitude for cheering the sad and making others feel glad. Turns out that I can also spin straw into gold and make something from nothing be it dinner from an empty fridge, an outfit from a sparse closet, or home decor from literal trash. I am not afraid to talk to anyone. I see the world differently and can transpose that sight into words to share with others. Best of all, I found the elusive X that marks the spot on my personal treasure map: a deep well of creativity that has provided my life's endeavors with endless buckets of inspiration. I am changing the world. Where are the statistics that prove this? What scores did I earn with these immeasurable talents?

I didn't. They don't exist. The world measures pounds and percentile, rank and rating, skill and scholarship. If you want to know who you really are you have to aim for the bull's-eye of righteous living instead of measuring up to everyone around you. When you focus on doing what's right the Savior will whisper your worth to you and it will far outweigh any value the world ever tagged you with. I know my worth and can't believe I almost let paneled pants and squishyness erase it.

*quote by Richard G. Scott, an excerpt from "Making the Right Decisions", April 1991.