Sometimes, when God hands you a challenge or a check to your ego, the message encourages you to look at your value in the world in a different way.

Many years ago, after a difficult first semester in college, I drove several hours back to my small-town home.  I learned that there was a basketball game at my old high school, and I thought that it might make me feel a little better to show up at the game.  I say show up because I was hoping that one or two folks would be glad to see me or that people would remember that I had announced the games and sang the national anthem only the year before.

I was not a very talented announcer or singer, and I knew it.  When the athletic director had asked me to announce the games, I’m sure that he didn’t have very high expectations.  I was just filling in for someone who couldn’t do it anymore.  And he certainly didn’t expect me to sing the national anthem.  In fact, he handed me a cassette tape recorder with a recording of the band playing the anthem.  Now it just so happened that the recording was truly awful — as though the tape had been recorded over multiple times.  And the rhythm and pitch wavered, as though the batteries were starting to go.  I don’t know what came over me, but right then and there I decided that I would sing the anthem instead of playing that recording.  And that’s what I did before every game.  And although no-one ever told me that I did a good job (with singing or announcing), I also never saw anyone cringe significantly, bulge their eyes, cover their ears, or run for the exit — so I must not have been that bad.

A year later at the basketball game, I had hoped that maybe a few folks that I passed by would have that look in their eyes like — hey I think I recognize him.  And then maybe someone would say, hey, didn’t you announce the games last year. Yeah, and you did the anthem, too, right?  Boy, that takes some guts.  I wouldn’t do that.  And maybe one of the parents would ask, Are you in college now?  How’s that going?

Instead, just before the game was about to start, I stood at the doorway to the auditorium and watched as the best singer in the school stood up and belted out a beautiful and stirring rendition of the anthem.  I could see on people’s faces that everyone was really impressed. And I was really impressed. I was happy for him, but at the same time I felt a whole lot smaller.  And there was more to come.  Standing next to me was none other than the mother of the girl that I had a crush on in high school.  She turned to me and said, “Doesn’t he have the most beautiful voice?  By the way, how is your brother doing?  He’s in college, right?”

With all that, I felt very clearly that this check to my ego was by design. It was as if God had slapped me on the back playfully and said, Make no mistake about it, I just checked your ego.  And admit it, it was a good one.  But then God would continue, Now, don’t you dare sulk.  What you did last year is what I wanted you to do.  And now I want you to see it for what it really is.

Though it took me a while to see it, I finally realized that the message wasn’t just about being humble.  It was about recognizing that your role may sometimes be more about setting the stage for someone else and having both the courage and humility to play that role as well as you can.  The same can be said about the messages that you share.  You should have the courage to share them, even if they are not perfect and if one day they are forgotten entirely, as they may still inspire something good.