There’s a difference between being proud and being prideful.
This might be the most challenging piece of all my articles because it’s full of fine lines and gray areas. This issue is, more than anything I’ve written about, the one I struggle with most frequently. While some things are heavier, this particular piece is challenging in a new way. It’s one of the things that, maybe, I don’t want to let go of.
I’ve prayed a lot about this day—the day I would write about my obsession with getting credit for my work. I’ve prayed for God to bust open my heart and expose what’s really going on. I’ve been nagged with this ridiculous writer’s block. I hoped the frequency with which I battle these credit-demons would lead to effortless writing. Unfortunately, this has not happened, so I hope you will bear with me. I will say what I need to say without much poetry.
I have no problem with giving credit to God. He will be the first one I thank when I accept my National Book Award and/or Academy Award. It’s human people that make things complicated. Not the ones who actually deserve credit, of course. I always try to point out when someone had an idea first or contributed to a team win. I am especially sensitive to ensuring that my younger female colleagues get a shout-out in meetings or that I echo an excellent idea and attribute it correctly when someone is getting talked over.
No, I’m thinking about the people who swoop in and steal. Maybe that’s being too harsh. I’m thinking about the people inspired by your good ideas who magically think of those same exact ideas on their own. These are the folks who make it hard to turn the other cheek.
Here’s a concrete example. Suppose your boss is trying to solve a problem at work that could significantly affect your business. So, he asks everyone to email him suggestions for potential solutions. You stay up all night brainstorming, email him your final three options, and hope for the best. You are invested in the company's success and excited about the opportunity to contribute.
Your boss gets up in the conference room the following day and says he’s solved the problem! Crisis averted! He then lays out the very same solution you emailed him, complete with a slide deck you created. Your name is never mentioned, and by all accounts, it looks like your boss had this brilliant idea all by himself.
I can’t tell you how often this scenario has played out in my life.
There are lots of different ways we can react. We can be nearly perfect human beings and clap loudly for our boss, happy that our ideas will help the greater good. We can stand up and yell, “BS! THAT WAS MINE!” Or, we might stew in it, building resentment and gossiping with our coworkers. We could choose to undermine our boss and weaken the company culture, setting up some sort of coup. The moment we decide the reaction is the moment we decide what kind of person we are.
The thing is, none of these choices are 100% correct. That’s the challenge for me in unpacking this.
How can I be humble but not taken advantage of?
How can I be gentle but not soft?
How can I declare my territory without trampling on places I shouldn’t be?
How can I hold others accountable without coming off as a shrew?
This is about more than just our workplaces. This hunger for validation and credit is in our homes, friend circles, and churches. Especially at our churches, where so much of the human capital that makes Sunday happen is free volunteer labor. It’s so easy to go above and beyond in our serve, all the while looking around to see if anyone notices how much we are giving.
Every season our church has a meeting of all the volunteers. At every meeting, a couple of people are called out for their service to the church and given a small gift as a token of their appreciation. They get applauded as MVPs, and it’s delightful.
In all my years at the church, I have never been called up.
It mostly doesn’t bother me. But, if I’m candid with you (and when have I not over the last 30-something days?), it stings slightly. Mostly I feel like garbage for even being a tiny bit disappointed I didn’t get the Amazon gift card. You and I both know it’s not about the gift card—it’s about the applause.
Because what is “getting credit” if not “seeking admiration”? We all want someone to notice us. Look at me! I’m helping! I’m leading TWO groups, setting up chairs, and opening doors for people! SEE ME!
Ah, to be seen. To be known. The most human of human desires. I chuckled the other day reading the Book of Joshua/Judges when Caleb was like, “Hey, remember that brave and faithful thing I did? I’m here to collect my inheritance.” I feel that. The difference between Caleb and me is that his heart in this request was pure, so he was rewarded with what was owed him. My heart is seeking validation because I’m trying to prove that I am worthy, which makes my service and sacrifice self-serving instead of other-serving.
We can not serve to be seen.
If this is something you struggle with—feeling overlooked and underappreciated—I get you. But the first thing we must do is double-check that we are giving, working, and serving out of the purest intentions. God will not reward us for vanity. He wants to see you.
Remember when Adam and Eve tried to outrun God because of their shame? He ran after them. When Jesus would stop what he was doing to turn towards the outreached hand of a desperate woman or kneel to the level of a small child? He looked into their eyes and really noticed them. Even better, they saw Him. By being truly seen, they could see the truth.
To be seen and known by God is only possible when we lay it all out for Him. When we serve to wrangle for a favored position or to get on the church’s Instagram, He knows. I’m sure He is trying to whisper to you, “psst! check your motives!” We’re too busy looking around to notice who is noticing us that we can’t hear him. By chasing the eyes of man, we’re missing the eyes of Jesus.
As children of God, we lay claim to our dreams with the power of Jesus inside of us. This means there will be a time in your life you will have to advocate for what is fair or just. God does not want you to cower meekly and let people walk all over you. He wants you to fill up that tank with Godly courage, like Caleb, and be your own biggest fan. But he also wants you to be patient. To know that your time is coming, that when you do good work or serve wholeheartedly, the truth about your character will shine on its own.
It’s a delicate tightrope to balance between being demanding and fighting for justice. It’s a good thing God is our safety net. Isn’t that better than an Amazon gift card?