Standing Tiptoe

When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, "Surely the Lord's anointed is before Him." But the Lord said to Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature because I have rejected him. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. ~ 1 Samuel 16:6-7

 (My mom's favorite picture of my shortness. See far left.)

Life keeps me on my toes.

Both figuratively and literally. (And no, I’m not a ballerina.)

The truth is, I spend a significant amount of time tiptoeing around. Putting cups away in the kitchen cabinet. Opening windows. Reaching for books on the shelf. Climbing stairs. Taking dry laundry off the line. Checking prices in the grocery store aisles. Giving hugs to friends. Putting up and taking down classroom posters. Peering over my tall third graders’ heads. I’m even on my toes when I’m sitting, my feet barely scraping the floor.

To be honest, my height has always been an insecurity. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been stuck in the front row. I was the girl that all of my tall friends didn’t want to stand next to in a picture because, “You make me look enormous.” Apparently, it’s cute when I’m angry. (News flash: It’s not.) Yes, officer, I really am old enough to drive. No, I’ll pay the extra dollar for the 16-up ticket to the basketball game, thank-you. And if you’re going to take me seriously, I might as well be wearing heels.

This isn’t the story of a little girl living in a big man’s world. In fact, it really has nothing to do with femininity and masculinity.

It has everything to do with insecurity, the kind that doesn’t come from culture norms or nature vs. nurture. Because I’m learning that every insecurity we have, big or small, is actually linked to an idol.

Let me be clear: I don’t think my idol is height. If I’m honest, I really do like the way I am. I certainly don’t believe God made a mistake when He knit me together. So why is it that I cringe when people look down their noses at me and repeat, “Wait, how old are you?”

The answer is this - my perception of height is deeply connected to my idol of respect. If someone were to ask me, “Would you rather be feared or loved?” my answer would undoubtedly be, “Feared.” In my mind, the taller you are the more you are respected. Being short is synonymous with being weak. I bow down to the idea of overcompensating to earn people’s respect. I bow down to the idea of conveying toughness instead of gentleness. I see the respect in Goliath’s strength, and I reject David standing tiptoe.   

Throughout this year, I’ve been measuring my third graders and tracking their height on a piece of masking tape. In January, they were able to see how much they’ve grown since I measured them in August. One student piped up, “Miss, why don’t you measure yourself?” Chuckling, I took off my heels and balanced the ruler above my head to draw a line. Stepping back I heard gasps. “But Miss, you’re not that much taller than us!” (In fact, I’m down to half an inch.) One sweet student studied the tape, held my hand and said, “Don’t worry Miss, I think you will grow more taller.” 

(My name is just barely at the top.)

 

I didn’t process all of this until much later, but now I’m carrying away a couple of jewels.

First, one of my students has unrealistic views of adult maturity when it comes to height. Bless her heart.

And second, I remember those gasps. The moment I was reminded that my height in inches and centimeters has nothing to do with respect. Those third graders believe that I’m ten stories tall. They respect me because of my character, not because of how I look on the outside.

God told us He would use the foolish things of this world to shame the wise, and what is weak in the world to shame the strong (1 Corinth. 1:27). Sometimes, I think I look pretty foolish standing next to a towering nine-year-old, but it serves as a reminder of my weakness and God’s ability to work through it. So I’m going to keep standing tiptoe, remembering that my dignity and respect really come from Him.

...

Fun photos of Spirit Week at Highlands!

 

Sports Day (no American football jerseys here)





 Twin Day (or was it triplet?)

 

Pajama Day (somehow this should be integrated into our uniform)

 

 And my personal favorite: Wacky Nerd Day

 

 

This journey is all the more worthwhile when I can share it with my readers. Again, a thousand thanks to those who are walking with me. If you're finding encouragement in what you're reading or would like to be a prayer partner, please comment, repost, or send me an email. I'd love to hear from you!