I recently went roller skating with friends. Unless we're counting the time my cousins tried to teach me how to roller skate when I was six -- let's not, though, because that didn't go so well, either -- I had never been roller skating.
I don't know what I was thinking, but I assumed that once we got to the rink I would just strap the roller skates on and be a pro. It never crossed my mind that roller skating takes skill; to get to the point of flawless skating and carefree laughing with friends that I was envisioning, it takes falling down. A lot.
As soon as I laced up my skates and stood up, I knew I was in trouble. I had no idea what I was doing. My body did not comprehend the concept of being on wheels. As I scooted myself onto the slick concrete of the rink -- a whole other beast from the carpet that at least provided some form of friction -- I realized it hadn't occurred to me that I could be bad at roller skating because I never do things I'm bad at.
My friends, who had given me a few pointers, left me alone to figure it out. This induced a small, humiliated panic within me; not only do I avoid things I'm bad at, I for sure don't do them alone. By the time I rounded the second corner -- a three-minute process -- I'd remembered Jesus was with me. I decided I would learn how to skate by the end of the night, no matter how foolish I looked in the process.
Here is the scene: cool middle and high school kids skating, fast doing tricks all around me, jumping over people and skating backward. Then there's me, a 21-year-old girl, lamely scooting back and forth, inch by little inch, on my wheels, clearly not understanding the physics of the roller skate. I am lapped by some people at least three times before I get around once, and my rally cry, as I skate on the non-railed sides of the rink is, "The. Wall. Just. Get. To. The. Wall."
It was liberating. I did eventually improve -- though not to proficiency -- and learned so much. I learned I'm not good at giving up control, which is key to roller skating. I learned how to stand on my own, to let Jesus be enough. I learned that falling down isn't something to be afraid of; it happens, and you get back up and go on, as many times as it takes. I learned about letting my friends -- and strangers -- teach me something, learned how to allow them to claim a gift they'd been given and pass it on to me.
Afterward, my friend reminded me what Jesus says in 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV): " ... My power is made perfect in weakness."
Let's do things we're bad at more often, giving ourselves -- and others -- a chance to laugh at us. Let's delight in being who we are in Jesus' grace and embrace, as we realize he loves us despite all the things we get wrong.
Mia Pohlman is a Perryville, Mo., native studying at Truman State University. She loves performing, God and the color purple -- not necessarily in that order.
Connect with the Southeast Missourian Newsroom:
For corrections to this story or other insights for the editor, click here. To submit a letter to the editor, click here. To learn about the Southeast Missourian’s AI Policy, click here.