I just got my personality results on the Myers-Briggs test again. The result: INFJ, a personality shared with Martin Luther King, Jr. The description: an idealist, committed to raising up the downtrodden, but also a realist–working hard to make things actually happen.
Scrolling through the description, everything fit me accurately. You are an introvert that many mistake for an extrovert because of your enthusiasm and your willingness to engage with people to champion your causes. Someone who tends to take on tons of responsibilities because you are passionate about so many things. And on and on and on.
But despite such a glowing personality description, somewhere within me, there’s this fear that I’m not good. I told Demarius that fear the other night, after he joked about wanting to be me when he grew up because I seem to have it all together. See, I say I want a life of service, that I’m committed to helping people, that I believe we are all interconnected…
But what if, at the bottom, once you push it all away, I am nothing but a self-centered person who wants everyone to be impressed with how altruistic I am?
Because I don’t have the Mother Theresa personality. I don’t have that warm presence that makes people feel closer to God. I’m sarcastic and snarky and sometimes self-absorbed.
In other words, I’m not perfect.
And sometimes I fear that I’m lying to myself by wanting to make my vocation be something that is, essentially, being a good person.
Am I good enough?
Not talented enough, or driven enough, but deeply, compassionately good enough.
I’ve always been told how smart I am, how impressive I am, how talented I am. I’ve been praised for grades and speeches and event planning. But somehow I crave for an affirmation that, work and plan and strive hard as I do, my heart is felt in it. That people see that I care and love them.
Because I do. I really do. I love my fellow beings and the divine light inside of them. I am moved by their troubles and their joys. I want to touch their stories and change their lives, and I want to be changed by them.
When I was talking with Soren about spiritual authority and where it comes from the other week, I told him decisively that wisdom can come from flawed people. MLK or Ghandi might have had their flaws, but I believe they walked closer with God and had things to offer to the rest of humanity.
In the same way, I hope that I–flawed as we all are–can still serve the world and make it a more loving place. I hope that I have something to offer, even if it is an imperfect gift.