In seventh grade, my math teacher suspected I was too good at math to be in the regular class I was in. She gave me a test, and apparently, I scored well enough to convince the school to let me skip pre-algebra and go straight into algebra.
There was a lot of left-brain, right-brain talk going on in the early 90s. Somehow I got the idea that if I was never going to be good at Language Arts because I had been dubbed a math person at that point. (Never mind the fact that I devoured books all through my childhood and I don’t remember not being able to read.)
My junior year of high school the English class I would have been in didn’t fit my schedule. I convinced the advanced English teacher to allow me to join her class instead. My motivation wasn’t purely academic. My two best friends were in the class. Even though I made good grades in the advanced class and was able to stay in the advanced class my senior year, I would have told you I was good at math and bad at language arts because I had put myself in that box in seventh grade.
Even after I dropped out of my pre-calculus class my senior year, I would have still told you that I was a math person.
I choose accounting as my major in college because I was a math person.
Even though one of my favorite college class memories was talking about The Awakening in my sophomore English class, I would have told you I was a math person.
I loved a lot of my college business classes, and I even to an upper-level math class called set theory for as an elective for fun.
The truth is that I was good at different portions of math and I was good at different portions of Language Arts. It wasn’t an either-or situation.
I’m good at reading and writing. I’m awful at spelling. I’m good at algebra and theory. I’m awful at doing math in my head and geometry.
If I had embraced what I was good at, I might have studied something different in college. I might have started blogging and writing sooner.
I think we have a tendency to look at spiritual gifts the same way. If I’m good at teaching, I must be bad at hospitality. If I’m good at prayer, I must be bad at evangelism.
Or sometimes we don’t know what our gift is because we are too afraid to try.