Perfect in Weakness

Imposter! I heard the voice in my head scream when my supervisor said, “You’re dyslexic, aren’t you?”

“I can tell—my sister is also dyslexic,” she said knowingly.

Internally, I froze. I hadn’t ever been officially diagnosed as dyslexic, but since I had all the signs, I knew that I was. My brain just works differently. I had learned to cope and even come to appreciate it at times as dyslexia allowed me to think creatively, but the quirks were still there. I was different, and I felt embarrassed that someone had noticed before I had chosen to disclose the information.

Even though I was successfully navigating college at the time, working and living a full life, I suddenly felt less than. I was an imposter, pretending to be normal when, clearly, I was different. Was I faking it or truly making it?

Fast forward to living overseas. After over two years of struggling to learn the local trade language, I was excited to finally start to feel fluent. I loved being able to participate in conversations and understand what was being said around me. It was our son’s birthday, and we had a cake for him during one of the ministry events we were hosting. I was feeling so good chatting with guests in their local language until I overheard a young boy who lived on the compound where we were meeting say to his friend, “She knows we can speak English, right?”

Imposter! the voice in my head screamed at me again. You can try to fit in, but you’ll always get it wrong. You don’t belong here, and you never will. It hurts when you want so deeply to do things the right way, to say things the right way, to be accepted and belong, but so many times my cultural blunders and sputters remind me that I don’t fully belong.

Now, eleven years in, I’ve lived so long in my host culture that, at times, I feel imposter syndrome when I go back to my passport country. “You’re not from around here,” says someone from the town where my parents have lived since I started high school. They’re right, I’m not. I’m not really from anywhere, I guess. Slowly, as I get older, I’m starting to make peace with being a fox with no permanent hole, a bird with no stable nest. I’ll probably always stick out a bit and never be fully understood. I’m sure I will always blush at the ways I mess up culturally both in my host culture and in my passport country.

I’ll probably always feel shame talking about parenting and marriage advice when I feel so inadequate to do either truly well. I’m a messed-up sinner stumbling down this road of life, constantly grateful for the grace of a new day to try again.

I find comfort for my inadequacies when I read Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (NIV). If there is one thing I know to be true, it is that I have many weaknesses, but Christ’s power rests on me. It rests on you too. It covers your flaws and your inadequacies. Those weaknesses may feel like a thorn tearing away at your confidence, but hold on to the truth that your worth comes from being a child of the king. He fully knows you and fully loves you.

Am I an imposter? No, I wouldn’t say those words are from a voice of truth speaking to me. I am a flawed human seeking to live a life of truth and love. I’ll be the first to say that I don’t do it perfectly. I fail on a daily basis, but I find strength in knowing that Christ chooses to work through flaws and weaknesses. He shines his perfect light of truth and love where my attempts fall short. So I can stand with Paul and boast in my weaknesses knowing that his power rests on me.

How do you counter feelings of imposter syndrome when living in a culture different from the one you grew up in? How do you remind yourself that your identity is in Christ instead of what people might assume or say about you?