Accepted. Valued. Loved.

Who Defines My Worth?

The game was over. But my mind kept playing.

As God’s messenger, I give each of you this warning: Be honest in your estimate of yourselves, measuring your value by how much faith God has given you. Romans 12:3

Last night I made a very embarrassing mistake while umpiring a softball game. Maybe to some people it wouldn’t seem like a big deal, but to me it was huge. The visiting team was beating the other by enough runs to end the game under the league’s mercy rule. As soon as the visiting team scored enough runs for the mercy rule, I announced, “Ballgame.” Play stopped, players left their positions, both teams started shaking hands, and one player had already changed out of her cleats and was headed to her car. Then the home team’s coach said, “Hey, we’re the home team. We still get to bat.” He was right. I was embarrassed. I had completely mixed up which team was the home team. I had to call everyone back onto the field, put the runners back on base, resume play where we had stopped, and then let the home team have their chance to bat. In the end, the outcome of the game didn’t change. But I was ashamed. I apologized several times to both coaches and the players. They were all gracious about it. I wasn’t. I couldn’t believe I had made such a bonehead mistake. A rookie mistake. Actually, I think that’s being generous because I’m not even sure a rookie would have made that mistake.

After the game, everyone seemed to shake it off like it was no big deal. But I knew I would be replaying it in my mind for the rest of the night. I take pride in my work. I’m a professional. I do a good job. I have a reputation to uphold, and I don’t want my ability as an umpire to be questioned because of one stupid mistake. Working through the steps of recovery, I have learned to ask myself questions when my mind starts to spin. “Why did this bother me so much? What was really going on inside of me?” As I sat with it, a recovery slogan came to mind: How Important Is It? That simple question interrupted my thinking. Instead of listening only to my emotions, I decided to look at the facts. I have umpired more than 10,000 games over nearly thirty years. Yes, I have made some mistakes. I’m not perfect. But in all that time, the actual number of mistakes is quite small in comparison. One mistake didn’t suddenly make me a bad umpire. It simply meant I made one mistake.

As I reflected on the situation, I realized the mistake wasn’t really what had affected me. The shame I felt had. That one mistake had quietly become a question about my worth. I have learned in recovery to stop and reevaluate myself. Not just my decisions, my actions, and my motives, but also my perspective, my value, and my worth. Looking at the facts helped interrupt my thinking and reminded me that my emotions weren’t the final authority. The real question wasn’t whether I was a good umpire. The real question was, who gets to determine my worth? If I allow my emotions to answer that question, my value will rise and fall with every success and failure. But when I submit my thinking to what God says about me, I’m no longer letting my emotions tell me who I am. As my thinking changes, transformation begins. Mistakes no longer define me. My worth no longer comes from how I think or feel about myself. It comes from the value God has already placed on me. Recovery is helping me accept this as a reality. I truly am becoming who God says I am. Accepted. Valued. Loved.

Prayer

God, help me stop letting my emotions define my worth. Teach me how to let go of my mistakes. Help me accept, value, and love myself as You do. Amen.