All my life I’ve been a performer.  Not the onstage, spotlight sense - the largest group I’ve ever been in front of is like 100 people and it was terrifying - but finding fulfillment in receiving praise from others for work well done.  High scores on exams, a beautiful house, a well-executed yoga posture, reading the right books (and making sure they’re displayed on shelves so you can see that I’ve read them), you name it.  If someone doesn’t see and respond positively, how will I know that I’m good enough?  

Recently, I’ve been wrestling with this struggle particularly in my career.  I work at a public accounting firm in our tax group, which depending on the time of year can be an incredibly stress-filled field, but which provides a lot of opportunities to distinguish yourself if you’re the right combination of capable, hardworking and lucky.  For someone like me, it’s the perfect opportunity to perform (though I do also genuinely love the work I do, even if that’s kind of embarrassing to admit).  If I just do an impressive enough job on a complex calculation, or come up with a brilliant-yet-legal strategy to save a client a bunch of tax, then the partners will love me and I will be have value...right?

I’ve had dozens of people speak the same truth into my life in response to this fallacy, but the one God used to finally hit home is an older woman at work named Maria.  She’s one of the wisest, smartest, most loving women I know, with an Italian proverb for every situation, and she’s mentored me since I started at the company a few years ago.  Recently I gave a presentation to the other women at my work about burnout, and after the presentation she said, “you need to hear what you just said more than anyone else at that meeting.”  According to a Mayo Clinic article that I had cited in the presentation, two of the major risk factors for career burnout are (1) identifying too strongly with work and (2) wanting to be everything to everyone at work - together, these describe me just about perfectly.  And apparently this fact had not escaped Maria. “But Maria,” I wailed (literally), “I really love my work - what do I do?” “You can still love the work you do,” was her response.  “Just stop letting it be what gives you your value.”

I have been spending my working life as a Gentile a la Ephesians 2, building myself idols of performance to bring myself peace and declare myself good.  But instead of receiving peace, I just receive more anxiety, more stress, and more need to perform so that my bosses will continue to value me.  I am working for the praise of men - good men, men whom I respect, but mere men nonetheless - and recently God has been forcibly reminding me that their opinion of me will never offer me peace or salvation.  Ephesians 2 offers a solution, reminding me that “you who were once far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ,” who “came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near, for through Him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit.” 

The irony of this is that the only way I can have peace, and feel that I am enough, is by admitting to God that I’m not adequate and not capable of achieving peace on my own.  I cannot possibly impress enough people with my capability or intelligence to feel adequate, and if I continue to try I will only alienate myself from others and God.  To say that this is hard for me is an understatement, and I suspect it will always be a struggle for me.  But in the past weeks I’ve seen God working in my heart at work, in how I interact with others.  When I’m reminded that my salvation comes from Jesus, not my own performance, I’m free to look beyond myself.  I’m free to find ways to love and serve others, and perhaps to extend a tiny bit of the grace and peace of Christ to those around me.

~Alyson Noell