Yesterday I had the pleasure of going to church and seeing my friends. It was Easter Sunday and my church allowed groups of 40 people to sit in the sanctuary for service. Being outside, in the house of the Lord, on the day He rose from the dead, with my friends was indeed a rare, social-distanced treat in this post-2020 world of ongoing pandemic.
The day felt epic and memorable, so of course we did what you do on epically memorable days: you take bomb group photos for the 'Gram, cause life needs to be documented and posted, of course. The photographer was chosen, the bodies were positioned and the lighting was right, so the pictures were epically memorable.
But was that my first thought when I anxiously screened the pictures for approval? Of course not. My first thought was negative and identified where I felt I lacked in comparison to everyone else in the photo.
"I never remember how much shorter I am than you guys until we take a picture."
I named my shortcoming first. Why?
Why didn't I name the beauty of the moment? Why didn't I name the clarity of the pictures? Why didn't I name that I loved the composition of colors of the clothes that popped against the beautiful Black skin of the women in the photo? Why did I first name my shortcoming? I'm short, yeah, but is that even a shortcoming? Why did I frame it as one?
Because that's what we're programmed to do. Find the flaws, name them, dwell on them, compare them. I, like many, tend to see my shortcomings first, but in an effort to "demolish arguments...and....take every thought captive," (2 Corinthians 10:5) I have to question that. I have to interrupt those thought patterns and change the language. Basically, I'm already short, I can't make it into a perceived shortcoming. What would even be the point?
So if I could change my initial reaction to our picture, I'd just say, "It was epic and memorable." No shortcomings here.
Lourdes Anita