I remember thinking as a cynical and immature high school senior that writing college application essays would be so much easier if I had experienced at least one great tragedy or challenge in my life — the painful loss of a loved one, battles with cancer, financial instability or just straight-up poverty, family issues, etc. But no, I healthily grew up in a nice, loving Korean two-parent family with all the resources and love I ever needed. I mean, seriously, my parents are still the type to drive down from New Jersey at 11 PM (ETA in Philly, factoring in traffic: 12:50 AM) to feed me soup when I am sick. Mad love, yo.
I was a relatively happy child as well — mostly because I could easily entertain myself with reading/writing/drawing/singing&dancing/being ridiculous, but also because I was good at school, and being the inherently bossy child that I was, my academic excellence served to justify my sense of (intellectual) superiority over others. I loved being called on to answer questions; I always wanted my writing to be the one that was read out loud as an exemplary example; I asserted myself a natural-born leader…you get the picture.
But it’s funny, even in the midst of intense family support and my own breed of self-confidence (read: pride), I was still able to subconsciously develop one gnawing fear:
I wasn’t good enough to be loved.I don’t know when I first acknowledged this thought, but looking back now, perhaps it was when I was in 4th grade, when I was placed in a different class from my best friend and I was forced to make new friends. Out of the new friends I made that year, there was one girl I greatly admired because a) she knew a lot about popular culture, which instantly made her cool, and b) she was really good at drawing (which made her even cooler to everyone else in our class). She was also the one all the guys liked, especially because of her soft voice and sweet manners, and as the tall (I know, hard to believe), awkward, braces-mouthed, acne-ridden, bossy, know-it-all friend, I knew I fell short in comparison. And I suppose that’s when you could say I began to buy into this idea that I wasn’t good enough to be loved…by guys.
Of course, there were other manifestations of this lie of “not being good enough,” especially when it came to academics in high school. I excelled, no doubt, but at the same time, I greatly feared failure; not only did I paranoid-ly fear that a slip-up on one test would mean a rejection from the university of my dreams, but I more so feared disappointing my extended family, my friends, every other person who expected me to graduate valedictorian, and most importantly, my parents. I got stressed and bitter whenever I felt like I had been pouring in all my time and energy into studying and yet, whenever I inevitably messed up and then got scolded for it, it felt like everything I had done up to that point didn’t count. The main thought that would run through my mind in those moments was: I just wouldn’t ever be good enough for my parents until I proved myself somehow — maybe until I made that speech at graduation.
Now, where does my faith fit into all of this?
Well, having experienced a complete lack of spiritual encouragement from my youth group, I had always wanted to know God more, but I had never been significantly pushed to actively develop an intimate relationship with Him. Coming to college, however, was still exciting spiritually because I knew I would be able to pick my own church and forge my own place in a body of believers. Luckily, I was able to come to GCC, and I was instantly super excited about the strong fellowship and spiritual intensity of this new church where people actually wanted to live for Jesus and Bible study was more than just discussions of cell phone accessories and basketball. My heart was all about being inclusive and building unity because I had fully experienced being a church social outcast for 6 years prior to college, and in the midst of all of this obsessive urgency (which I have later recognized as pride and lack of trust in God’s timing), I became rather worn out by the end of the year. More significantly, I was pretty hurt by a comment I heard second-hand which said that despite my fervent exterior, a few of the older brothers and/or sisters in the church felt that I didn’t really have the spiritual substance to back it up. Whether it was just a rumor or perhaps even just a helpful rebuke that I had twisted in my mind (because it’s true, I was quite a noob and shallow in my understanding of the Word and God’s voice), I still took it as yet another sign that I wasn’t good — or rather, holy — enough (especially in comparison to “holier” friends) to be loved, even by the church.
The summer after my freshman year was somewhat of an emotional hodgepodge, with messy friendships with guys and hurtful words. This compounded into shame and fear of judgment, and I came to the overwhelming — but thankfully momentary — conclusion that I really wasn’t good enough to be loved…this time,
by God. It was the first time in my life that I put aside the idea that I was a "good" Christian (who didn't get drunk, wasn't promiscuous, etc.) and understood how far I was from it. But through this crazy internal turmoil, I came to understand firsthand the power of Jesus’ redemptive love. 1 Peter 4:8 says that “love covers over a multitude of sins”, while 1 John 4:18 says that “There is no fear in love,” and it was through His amazing love that all the brokenness I saw inside of me was suddenly replaced with the wholeness of Christ. Yes, I fell — and still fall — so short of the glory of God, but He has justified me freely by grace through His ultimate act of love: the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. It was more than okay that I wasn’t “good enough” for Him through my character or my works because it was precisely because I was undeserving (
while I was yet a sinner!) that His amazing love was that much more meaningful and powerful.
I’d love to say that after that summer, I was totally transformed into a girl 200% secure in the unconditional love of God, but of course, that wasn’t the case. Sophomore year was the hardest year of my life, thanks to a self-esteem-shattering confusion over academic/career direction, more difficult friendships with both guys and girls, and the plaguing fear that I was, again, not good enough for anyone to truly love me for all my flaws. But God was persistent and has been persistent in loving me and reminding me that His grace and love go hand-in-hand — grace to forgive the sins and shortcomings, love to fill the gaps. Also, He has shown me that I have been fearfully and wonderfully made by Him, created to receive love not just from Him, but also from others who, by the grace of God, will love me for who I am.
No one is “good enough” before God compared to the absolute perfection of Jesus Christ, and your worth cannot be found in academics or a career, a relationship or the opinions of others. But once you accept Jesus as your Savior and surrender your sins, nothing can diminish the worth you hold as a child of God and nothing can separate you from the love of God found in Christ Jesus. No matter who you are or what you’ve done — and no matter who you aren’t or what you haven’t been able to do — God’s unfailing love will pursue you and hold you and let you know that you are perfect in His eyes. This Easter, I would really, really love for y'all to be able to encounter this kind of crazy love from a God who asks for nothing more than your heart.
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