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Weak.

I played ultimate frisbee today. It was awesome. I love running and getting that ridiculous catch that no one thought you would get. I love scoring and watching the other team take the walk of shame. 

The catch – I’m just not that good at throwing a frisbee. 

My dad and I used to play frisbee when I was a kid – and by “play” I really mean, throw. I can throw if no one is bothering me. Not accurately. And not all the time. But I understand the concept. My ability spirals downward the more someone is pestering me. 

This makes me only a semi-useful player. 

I hate not being good at something. 
I hate having to admit that I’m not good at something even worse. 

In church today the pastor read a verse in Matthew 11. John the Baptist – the locust-eating, camel-hair wearing man who pointed to Jesus – is in prison. He says this:

John, meanwhile, had been locked up in prison. When he got wind of what Jesus was doing, he sent his own disciples to ask, “Are you the One we’ve been expecting, or are we still waiting?” (Matthew 11.2-3, MSG)

John, for all of his boldness, shows a seed of doubt. A moment of weakness. Jesus goes on to remind the crowd that he was anything but a weak man, and he carried an even stronger message. 

I hate being weak. And vulnerable. But I’m for sure not as cool or bold as John the Baptist. So… it’s probably okay. 

And definitely something I should be working on.

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