Accepting My Mediocrity

I'm coming to a realization that I'm struggling to assimilate fully into my being -- I am not an extraordinary person. I say that not to fish for compliments, but rather because by comparison to others, particularly in our technical world, I fall far short of their abilities. It's not a question of studying more, or working harder ... I simply don't have the ability to fully grasp complex technical architectures. Pieces of it, yes. The whole enchilada? No.

"That's normal." You might say. Well, perhaps. But somewhere in my psyche I've held this notion that one day I might be considered "extraordinary." I cling to that notion to stave off a sense of insecurity, I suspect. But the conclusion of my own mediocrity has become inevitable, and it's a bitter pill to swallow.

Am I blessed in my present state? Most assuredly. Do I really want to be a high-flying DE, harried by 30 ST windows open at once? Nope. So what's my problem?

This:

If [not extraordinary] then [worthless and therefore vulnerable]

Stupid, isn't it? But that's how my mind works.

In the movie "Moonstruck" (which is my favorite) there's a theme that's echoed by two of the characters (Nicholas Cage playing Ronnie Cammareri, and Vincent Gardenia playing Cosmo Castorini). The two comments were:

• "One day a man comes to realize that his hope for his one dream is gone" (Cage)
  
• "It's a bad day when a man wakes up and realizes his life is built on nothing" (Gardenia)

That's me ... I'm coming to wake up to this realization.

The marriage counselor my wife and I visited back when we were in our rough patch said that there were only two primary emotions: fear and hope. Lose the hope and all that's left is fear.

I know ... our hope is Jesus. I know that intellectually.

I'm still working on knowing that intuitively.