When Strivings Cease
The Heavy Burden of Performance-Based Value. An Encouragement to Embrace God's "Stamp of Approval" Instead.
This past summer, we took the boys to see the new Disney Pixar movie, Inside Out 2. We really enjoyed the first one and had high hopes its sequel wouldn’t disappoint.
I thought it was brilliant!
(Consider this your official spoiler alert…though I won’t divulge too many details!) In the first movie, we meet Rylie and her emotions: Joy, Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Disgust. They’re so cute with his or her own distinct personalities, all working together to create Rylie.
Joy, with Rylie since the beginning, ran the show, but when a sudden cross-country move threatened Rylie’s sense of security, everything devolved into chaos. In the end, Joy learned that all of Rylie’s emotions are important, and often times, she needed to take a backseat when less-than-joyful circumstances arose in Rylie’s life.
The second movie opens with the same familiar crew. Joy still ran “Headquarters,” but now with an appreciation for Rylie’s more complex emotions. With team effort, the gang sized up each day’s memories, sending the “keepers” to “long term.” The ones they’d rather forget were catapulted to the “back of the mind.”
Life is calm and routine, then, Rylie hits puberty.
And a whole new cast of emotions join the old familiars: Envy, Embarrassment, Ennui and, the leader of the pack, Anxiety. Like Fear, Anxiety shoulders the responsibility of “keeping Rylie safe.”
Besides the additional emotions, we were introduced to Rylie’s “sense of self,” a glowing, pulsating statue constructed from the various things Rylie believed about herself. Her strong moral center, advanced skills in hockey, and loyalty to friends and family wove together to form her grounding belief: “I’m a good person.” As Anxiety assumed more and more control, Rylie’s sense of self began to deteriorate. Self-doubt and imposter syndrome crept in, persuading Rylie to do and say things the Rylie we had come to know would never say or do. A new “sense of self” emerged, and its grounding belief was: “I’m not good enough.”
On our way out of the theater, I asked my 14-year-old son, “Any of that relatable?” We exchanged knowing smirks and he sarcastically added, “Not at all.”
By Whose Standards?
The truth is I found it very relatable. It took me back to a time when I was so plagued by self-doubt and imposter syndrome that I sought counseling.
In my therapist’s office, I lamented with tears that I was not enough. “For who?” she inquired. “For my family,” I cried. “By whose standards?” she probed. To which I had no ready reply.
This fracturing of self had been a decade in the making. I had just been called out of New Age philosophy and ten years prior had just left my teaching position. I had no idea who I was, or who I was supposed to be.
I remember the first time I went grocery shopping in the middle of the day in the middle of the week after resigning from my job. Standing in the full parking lot, I was suddenly struck by the worrying thought, ‘Are people going to see me and wonder why I’m not at work?’
Most all people I know are striving to meet someone’s standards. Students are working to reach standards set by teachers and parents. Wives are working to reach standards set by mothers-in-law or other women. Employees are working to reach standards set by their employers. And a number of us are working to reach standards we’ve set for ourselves—often impossibly high.
When I do find success, the goal invariably shifts. It remains elusive, just out of reach. Otherwise, it is unsustainable. In the end, I’m left with failure and a crumbling sense of worth. “Trying to find self-esteem by living up to a certain set of standards is a trap,” teaches Tim Keller.1
Insta-Famous
In 2019, my husband and I embarked on a home building journey, and I thought it’d be fun to share the experience on Instagram. If I could have left it at simply sharing it might have come to nothing, but my competitive nature took over and turned it into a game I had to win. From that point on all that mattered was how many views my posts and videos could achieve, how many likes, how many shares and the ultimate achievement in engagement: followers.
I studied the successful home decor accounts and emulated their formulas. I researched the ingredients for making a viral video. I spent way too much money too quickly in order to keep my content fresh. I bought media editing subscriptions I could never quite figure out. But one day, I did it. I posted a viral reel. It was 12 seconds long and had 1.3 million views. I gained 33,000 likes and 7,000 followers in about a week. And when the dust settled, I was found hiding in a corner. OK, not a literal corner, but mentally I had freaked out. Insta-fame was not all I thought it’d be. I felt very exposed, like I was standing naked in front of an audience of strangers demanding I-didn’t-know-what from me.
I stepped away from posting on Instagram for a long time after that. I needed to reconfigure my priorities. I think sometimes the Lord gives us what we want in order to show us it’s not exactly as wonderful as we imagined it would be. Being “Insta-famous” is not my calling, and when I look at that time in hindsight, I see a girl waving her arms crying out, “Look at me Mommy! Look what I can do!” A girl seeking love and approval from anyone willing to give it to her. If only for a moment.
Too low? or Too high?
Wouldn’t it make sense to believe that someone like me in the example above, and anyone who acts similar, is looking for validation due to a low self-esteem? That I, and so many like me, need the approval of others to help us feel better about ourselves?
Tim Keller says it actually comes from too high a self-esteem in his little gem of a book, The Freedom of Self Forgetfulness. Having hubris, the Greek word for having too high a view of oneself, was traditionally the reason given for why people misbehave (are abusive, violent, drug addicted, or break laws). It actually wasn’t until the 20th century that western culture began blaming misbehavior on a lack of self-esteem and too low a view of oneself. Keller argues that we don’t need help feeling better about ourselves; we think pretty highly of ourselves already. In essence: I think I’m great and I need you to agree with that assessment. You can demonstrate your agreement by sharing, liking, and commenting on my greatness.2
The Hubris of Man
In 1 Corinthians 4:6, Paul wants believers to stop being prideful from comparison. He uses the Greek word physioõ here, which literally means “overinflated, swollen, distended beyond its proper size.” Paul is saying this is the condition of the natural human ego.
To help his readers better understand the picture created by the term physioõ, Keller delves into the characteristics of an overinflated ego. First, he says the ego is empty (like an inflated balloon) and works hard to fill itself up.
Soren Kierkegaard says in his book, Sickness Unto Death, it is the normal state of the human heart to try to build its identity around something besides God. Anyone who feels the painful truth while singing the verse “Let Thy goodness like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee; Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love” understands something of what Kierkegaard speaks to. Keller explains: “Kierkegaard says that the normal human ego is built on something besides God. It searches for something that will give it a sense of worth, a sense of specialness and a sense of purpose and builds itself on that.”3
As well as being empty, Keller describes the ego as being in pain. Just like body parts we would otherwise forget draw attention to themselves when they hurt, our ego is always drawing attention to itself. “It is always making us think about how we look and how we are treated.”4 It is the ego that hurts when “our feelings are hurt”—our sense of self, our identity—has been injured.
As mentioned above, the overinflated ego works tirelessly to fill the void. It does this by comparing and boasting. In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis describes the vying nature of pride: “Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next person…If everyone else became equally [as] rich, or clever, or good-looking [as they], there would be nothing to be proud about.” We lose all pleasure in what we had because we really had no pleasure in the thing itself.
I’m Happy as Long as I Have It and You Don’t!
I’m reminded of the clever story, “The Sneetches,” written by Dr. Seuss. Half of the Sneetches had little green stars on their bellies, while the other half did not. All the Star-Belly Sneetches would brag, “We’re the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches.” With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they’d snort “We’ll have nothing to do with the Plain-Belly sort!”
One day, a sly salesman, Sylvester McMonkey McBean, makes the Plain-Belly Sneetches an offer they can’t refuse. For just three dollars each, they too can be star bellied! Spotting the prior Plain-Belly Sneetches now possessing stars, the original Star-Belly Sneetches can no longer boast about their distinguishing status symbols. “Good grief!” groaned the ones who had stars at the first. “We’re still the best Sneetches and they are the worst. But, now, how in the world will we know,” they all frowned, “If which kind is what, or the other way round?”
No worries! The crafty McBean had a solution. For just ten dollars each, he could make them bare bellied. “Then, with snoots in the air, they paraded about and they opened their beaks and they let out a shout, “We know who is who! Now there isn’t a doubt. The best kind of Sneetches are Sneetches without!”5
Having the star isn’t what mattered to the original Star-Bellied Sneetches; what mattered is that they had something the other group of Sneetches did not. And that is how pride works to fill our sense of inadequacy and emptiness—through comparison and boasting.
A Cruel Master
Instagram was all about the numbers—how many views? how many followers? how many likes? And the numbers only became relevant through comparison. When my reel went viral, I had received the world’s “stamp of approval.” I had made it. I was somebody. But then what?
Well, I had to do it again. Insta-fame lasts only a moment. As Solomon discovered: “For the wise man, like the fool, will not be long remembered; in days to come both will be forgotten.”6 And in today’s fast paced world, you get forgotten pretty quickly! I had to prove that I was still a somebody. If I couldn’t do it again, it meant it had just been a fluke. The desire for self-worth, the need to be sure I am somebody was never satisfied.
And round and round the endless cycle continues. It’s never ending. The finish line forever inches ahead—like the carrot we dangle before the horse. Never satisfied, our ego whips us like the exhausted mule laden with its burden to continue on until we have nothing left and collapse in defeat.
Come to Me
In Matthew 11:28, Jesus invites us to find rest for our weary souls by coming to Him. “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”
My Sunday school teacher explained that in the Jewish culture, a rabbi’s “yoke” was symbolic of the way of life he expected his disciples to follow. To take on Jesus’ yoke was to practice a life of gentleness and humility.
“The essence of gospel-humility is not thinking more of myself or thinking less of myself, it is thinking of myself less…True gospel-humility means I stop connecting every experience, every conversation, with myself. In fact, I stop thinking about myself. The freedom of self-forgetfulness. The blessed rest that only self-forgetfulness brings” explains Tim Keller.7
Each one of us is looking for the ultimate verdict that we are important and valuable. And our performance will never get us this kind of verdict. In the courtroom of the world, we are “on trial” every day. What will the verdict be today? Did I get a lot of attention? —I must be a somebody. Did no one seem to notice me today? —I must be a nobody. In either case, I must continue working to prove them either right or wrong.
When Christ is our Lord and Savior, the court is adjourned—forever. His perfect performance has been imputed onto our record and “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ.”8
The Psalmist declares again and again that nothing on earth will satisfy us the way only God can because all of creation is merely a shadow and reflection of its Creator. Shadows cannot fill my hungry soul. A “like” on my post or validation of my personhood is a mere hint of the validation I receive from the Lord. Clothed in the perfect work of Christ, my heavenly Father says to me: “Well done!”
Rest in His Love
In his book Habits of the Household, Justin Whitmel Earley shares examples of bedtime blessings he offers his sons. I have adopted his “Blessing of Gospel Love” into our bedtime routine and both boys, yes, even my 14-year-old, look into my eyes absorbing the truths I offer like sponges.
Parent: Do you see my eyes? Child: Yes. Parent: Can you see that I see your eyes? Child: Yes. Parent: Do you know that I love you? Child: Yes. Parent: Do you know that I love you no matter what bad things you do? Child: Yes. Parent: Do you know that I love you no matter what good things you do? Child: Yes. Parent: Who else loves you like that? Child: God does. Parent: Even more than me? Child: Yes. Parent: Rest in that love.9
Dear friend in Christ, there is no more condemnation. The court is adjourned. Your guilt has been forgiven. The perfect work of Christ has been credited to your record. You are God’s child, with whom He is well pleased. Your excellent performance did not gain His attention. He loved you before He laid the foundation of the world.
Rest in that love.
Timothy Keller. The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness: The Path to True Christian Joy. England: 10Publishing, 2019. pg. 28.
Ibid. pg. 9-12.
Ibid. pg. 15.
Ibid. pg. 16.
Dr. Seuss. The Sneetches and Other Stories. New York: Random House Children’s Books, 1989.
Ecclesiastes 2:16
Tim Keller. The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness. pg. 32
Romans 8:1
Justin Whitmel Earley. Habits of the Household: Practicing the Story of God in Everyday Family Rhythms. Michigan: Zondervan Books, 2021. pg. 205.



Sooo good! I love your transparency. This was so encouraging! I’m headed over to Amazon to get “Habits of the Household”. This was also relatable, as I deactivated my Facebook for similar reasons and to focus more on my new Bible study! 🩷🩷🩷 I really look forward to these each week. 😊
Such Delicious Soul Fodder!! Your Transparency is Refreshing, Vanessa!! Yes, indeed, the Court has been Adjourned!! Your Amazing Journey is Truly a Gem in the lives of all who are Privy to share!! Thank You for opening your Heart!! ❤️🦋