I stood there nervously waiting for my name to be called. Other classmates got called one by one. Minutes of our precious recess ticked by as I looked longingly at the “grade 4 jock” begging to be chosen for his team. Last, again. Being seen for my athletic ability or strategic prowess on the field was not something I was known for on the playground. I was more the fly on the wall, the one that felt others’ feelings and who cried a lot. The girl that followed along.
The idea of being chosen, without doing something to earn it, is one that still often escapes me. The way my husband calls me his best friend and says how he loves my greying hair still leaves me aghast at his beautiful love for me. I still wrestle with… don’t I need to do more? Even though you’ve already chosen me? And you can believe that narrative follows me into my relationship with the Lord.
I’m a disciplined and rhythmic person by nature. I like to wake before everyone else, stealing silence, coffee and prayers like daily treasure. But my heart still questions – Lord, would you run after me, if I stopped chasing you?
So, where does one look when it feels hard to believe what loved ones and even Jesus say about you? Ancient text. Scripture. The Bible. God’s Holy promises to us. Turn to the text that was written over thousands of years by multiple writers with the same core message – God will come for you to redeem you. Make you His own. And guaranteed it never looks like you expected.
The Bible is filled with words of God singing over me, with literal delight (Zephaniah 3:17), being my protector and keeper (Psalm 121:5) and the promise that He will never leave me (Deuteronomy 31:6, Hebrews 13:5), and God’s language to Israel that speaks to me too – I am His (Isaiah 43:1).
In fact, Biblically and historically if you look at stories of the Bible, it was the ones who FELT unseen or were often rejected by society that Jesus really came after. John 4 tells us of when Jesus is sitting at the well and a Samarian woman comes to draw water. Jews and Samaritans didn’t generally “hang out” back in those days. Our pastor spoke from this text recently and said how the men of that era could divorce a woman primarily if she was barren. So here is this woman who had felt ultimate rejection, feeling unseen, drawing water in the middle of the day so as to avoid the “married women” who drew water in the morning. Jesus sees her. Tells her who He is and affirms her story. And she becomes, essentially, the first evangelist, running back to town to tell people who she had met.
The unseen? Those who feel unchosen. You’re the ones Jesus sits to see. Love on. (you can watch this amazing scene unfold in the series The Chosen, depicting Jesus and the woman at the well. I love it so much!)
I listened to a podcast interview recently with Nicole Zasowski, Christian family therapist and author. In her recent book, What if Its Wonderful, she tells how our brains naturally remember and hold onto negative experiences out of protection. We were given natural ways of sensing danger and protecting ourselves; therefore, it takes more effort to hold onto the good. Those moments and experiences of joy that we want to be stronger than the fear takes some work to recall. She shares a practice of “in the moment” running through all 5 senses so that you can recall that experience in a deeper way. Embed it into your brain so to speak.
I tried this recently as I flopped into the hammock in the shade and my girls played in their treehouse. It’s a slice of heaven, quite honestly. I heard them playing and laughing, birds chirping, and some cars in the distance. The wind ever so lightly blowing in the tree. I smelled the earthiness of fall. I saw my husband’s work clothes drying on the clothesline. I felt the hammock, holding me tight like a cocoon. And if there was anything to taste in that moment, it was the goodness of God.
Using our five senses, we can literally feel God’s goodness in a deeper way. And perhaps feel Him seeing and choosing us, just a little bit more. Perhaps like the woman at the well, words can become experience when we activate our God-given senses.
All those little gifts in the day that our senses can soak up are just one way that God sees us, daily.
That sweet person who paid for your lunch in the drive through, just because? You were seen. The way the flowers bloomed in your garden in an amazing way this year? Nature, shining for you. The way your honey wraps you in their arms and you breathe a sigh of relief? A gift. The smell of fresh carrot cake in fall and hot black coffee? Gifts.
So here I am, choosing to wrap up my chosenness in the nowness of His gifts. Working my senses, I’m choosing to remember that feelings are awfully fickle, and sometimes we have to walk it before we feel it.
Selah.
