My imposter syndrome as a Christian.

Impostor syndrome is a strange feeling. It is a term first used by psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes in 1978 "to refer to otherwise successful individuals who felt their achievements were undeserved."

In the papers today, journalist Zhaki Abdullah personally felt that way as he wrote:-

"After graduating in 2008, I have hit most of the major milestones of adulthood, I got a job, got married, had a child and moved into my own place. Yet on some level, I have always felt like I have been pretending at adulthood."

And Zhaki is not alone in feeling that way. 

He added, "while (impostor syndrome) is not classified as a formal mental disorder, as many as 70 per cent of people have such feelings, according to research published in the International Journal of Behavioural Science in 2011."

Even famous writer like Neil Gaiman and renown astronaut Neil Armstrong felt that way at some point in their lives. 

For Neil Gaiman, he "had nightmares about having someone show up at his door one day to tell him to get a real job instead of being a writer."

And for Neil Armstrong, he once told Gaiman in a function attended by "artists and scientists, writers and discoverers of things" that "he felt less accomplished than other people."

While I don't know whether Armstrong felt that he was an "imposter", I guess the feeling of inadequacy (or fake-ness) in the midst of other equally, if not more, accomplished individuals is quite natural. 

I think if we walk down that road and start comparing with others, there is just no end to feeling the "personal shortcomings" regardless of how accomplished we are. 

And unless you are a dictator who lives in an artificial cocoon of self-elevation and grandeur, where there is no end to the sycophancy bestowed on you by eager beavers no different from the mindless fans, no one is ever spared the same feeling that Armstrong or Gaiman (or Zhaki) experienced at some point in their lives.  

But, be that as it may, I am writing this morning about another form of imposter syndrome I once felt (and sometimes am still feeling). It is a sense of inauthenticity that quietly gnaws at my soul. And it is of a religious kind. 

As a Christian, I felt this most intensely when I am in an evangelistic service or some spiritual seminar when overseas preachers take over the stage in front of thousands of smitten believers. 

Somehow, there is what I call the feeding the frenzy syndrome when you are on an elevated stage and the expectation of the crowd reaches stratospheric levels. 

This usually comes after the emotions of the congregation are all psyched up by the lachrymose worship and praise songs. 

While I am not saying that it is improper to be jubilant and rejoicing in our faith, what I am however saying is that most of us risks leaving our brains at the door as we rush headlong with our bleeding hearts into the altar of indiscriminate blessings and promises being hosed straight at our faces.

And in a charged up environment like that, we often take everything being uttered at the pulpit hook, line and sinker.

This is where I developed that imposter syndrome as a believer.

I had personally attended countless of such mass gatherings in the past, and like an all-you-can-eat buffet bar, I grabbed everything I can with both hands and swallowed them whole. 

If a preacher claims healing unconditionally, I munch it down without thought. If a preacher announces a revelation of indiscriminate prosperity and blessings to all and sundry, I devour it with mindless relish (and that usually comes before a collection). 

And if a preacher proclaims the end of days in his lifetime (or very soon), I rush home to set up a hermitage of weeping, fasting, sackcloth donning and ash showering. 

Although I do that no more, I have in recent years been to a few of such services where hungry believers desperate for a breakthrough in their lives and/or the lives of their loved ones latch on to such promises as if their dear life depend on it.

To be honest, I somehow understand their cries for help and relief. I too was once in their shoes praying for a loved one to be healed but saw our collective fervent prayers fall on the auditorium's carpeted floor like thunderous pin-drops.  

My point here is that there is this undeniable gap between our prayers of faith and our cravings for signs and wonders. 

Let me clarify that this post is not about not praying and believing because of unanswered prayers, but it is about not being so naive and suggestible about bold claims of answered prayers.

You see, if Jesus’ ministry were defined strictly by signs and wonders, he would not have missed the opportunity of demonstrating the greatest miracle in his lifetime by walking out of the hung Cross totally unharmed just before he heaves his final breath (that is, it would not be “Lord, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing”, but instead, “Lord, it is about time you show them what you are made of”).

So, forget about the empty tomb where only a few had witnessed it. Let's go for broke and stroll down from the bloodied Cross and leave hundreds of skeptics speechless. That would surely go down in the annals of history as the greatest supernatural event of all time. 

Yet, Jesus chose otherwise not just to fulfill the prophecy, but because there is no greater miracle in this world than a life reborn. And that has always been the gospel since the beginning of time, that is, to reconcile all unto Him. 

In the end, physical miracles transfix the heart only for a season. A heart transformed however lasts for all seasons, and like the life of Christ, impacts generations. 

It is therefore not about answered prayer so much as it is about a transformed life. It is not about delaying death due to sickness as it is about confronting death and asking, "Where is thy sting?" 

And it is surely not about being rich in this world by clinging to the promises of prosperity as it is about being rich in God through following the steps of the risen Christ – wherever He takes us, through the valleys and all.

Coming back full circle, it is therefore not about signs and wonders at our beck and call as it is about fulfilling His call and purpose in our life.

So, I sometimes still feel fake about my faith when I assure others that God has plans for them to prosper, to be the head and not the tail, and to succeed in whatever they are doing and not encounter failures because our God is undeniably successful in all that He does.

I know this is what the hearer wants to hear, and I proclaim it in a way that it is heard that way. 

Again, to be honest, I really do not know what God exactly has in store for a life I lay my hands on. He deals with each of us individually and personally. It is a lifelong relationship for each of us and the journey is without fail a fraught one. 

He doesn't hand us a fixed map which clearly spells out the booby traps along the way and shows us how we can overcome them if we follow a 5-step program or a 7-step manual. If anything, he lights our path one faithful step at a time – and mind you, the surrounding darkness at most times is not adequately illumed. 

In other words, no two believers are created alike. No two share the same journey of faith even though the destination is the same. No two succeed or fail the same way as one may fail successfully and the other may succeed miserably. 

All I know is that to resist being an imposter of the faith, I have to confront my own failings, acknowledge my vulnerabilities, and then take each step and each day He sheds light on at a time. There will always be surrounding darkness before me, and faith - for me - is to keep moving forward as His light leads. 

That is the only way I know to live an authentic Christian life in this trying journey empowered by growth, hope and resiliency. For the ultimate fulfillment of faith is not in asking for providence to remove every obstacle standing in my way. It is on the contrary to follow in His footsteps to walk through everyone of them. Ours is an overcoming faith, and not a convenient and easy one. Cheerz.