Chasing Rejection

uninvited

On my way home from a holiday cookout I helped host, my thoughts turn to rejection. I swear I’m passing more parties than usual. Home after home includes family and friends gathered around bonfires, pig roasts, and cornhole. The Amish (who, to my knowledge, don’t even observe our federal holiday) even had more company than I could round up. While I treasured time spent with the few who attended my party, overall turnout had been low. Fail (again). Nearly everyone had somewhere else to go and something else to do, which seemed to be the story of my life almost every time I extended an invitation.

For a few seconds, I tried to throw my resentment onto God. You just don’t want me to have friends, I thought for the bazillionth time. Then I tried to pass my rejection off onto the people at the parties. It’s because I don’t have kids. Kids motivate people to gather. They attract people to one another. And probably because I don’t drink beer. Half of those people probably don’t even like each other. They’re probably just bored in a small town.

Really Tami? said the Voice of reason.

Alright, then. No one ever shows because my only true friends have fur and whiskers.

You know that’s not it. 

Then I’m just off-putting. No one likes me enough to spend more than an hour with me. What is it?! I constantly rack my brain over it. If there’s something I can improve upon, I will. It’s probably my strength. People don’t like that. If only they would let me show them my vulnerability. Wait, I’ve shown my vulnerability. I reach out to a ton of people and express my heart.

No matter what I do, connection always seems just out of reach, and I end up perpetually hurt and rejected. Why did I always end up consumed by this thought, back in the same conversation in which I refused God’s help?

I know my worth is not determined by relationships or by throwing a well-attended party. My value is in the Lord. He loves me unconditionally. He will never fail me or abandon me (Hebrews 13:5). Only He can complete the pieces of me that the world leaves empty. I know these things. These truths seemed so near, but why had I ventured so far away from them by buying into the belief that I am destined for rejection? I knew good-and-well I was dipping my toe back into the same spiral, only hours after reading Lysa TerKeurst’s book, Uninvited. I learned so much from it, then–BAM–distraction through unrealistic comparisons about why people hadn’t attended my party but were going to everyone else’s parties.

That’s how the lie of rejection works in my life. It’s one of Satan’s tools to separate me from God’s truth. The lie seems small and harmless at first. I minimize it by telling myself, “I’m allowed to feel down. I have a reason.” It’s perfectly natural to feel this way, right? That’s what the world tells me. And if I believe it, I float off into a funk and neglect God’s Word, even when it’s smack dab in front of me. But I’m not meant to wallow in self-pity and victimization. Instead, I knew this was the exact opportunity I needed to demolish old thoughts and patterns.

“What we see will violate what we know unless what we know dictates what we see.”¹ 

Until last week, I prayed, “God, please lead me to the relationships in which you want me to engage. Show me the people I can help or bring to me those who need my help. Whether those people are complete strangers, people with whom I’m already associated, or even people from the past with whom you want me to reconnect.” Seemed like a fine little prayer on the surface. Sometimes I saw it answered, perhaps by a stranger who would become an acquaintance or when an old friend requested me on Facebook. But the answers were superficial and hardly satisfied my intimate desire to connect to others. So, earlier this week, as I sat down to edit my writing, the Holy Spirit enlightened me.

Ditch that prayer, I heard. Stop chasing your need for relationships. Be with me. I am enough.

I was stuck in my writing because my writing is my thinking. What holds our attention most is what we truly worship, and I was worshipping rejection. The realization was repulsive. At that moment, I rejected rejection. I surrendered my chase. I opened my depth, where resides my deepest need for belonging, and I felt God take my emptiness and fill it.

“Yet not what I will, but what you will.” (Mark 14:36)

Immediately, I turned my thoughts to His love and let His truth prevail as the loudest voice over my hurt. One more small but powerful piece of the past relinquished to the Almighty. Rejection is no longer my idol nor my battle.

Have you allowed rejection to steal the best of who you are by reinforcing the worst of what has been said to you?² Are you chasing a love that only God can provide? Surrender to the Lord. Be with Him. He is enough.

 


  1. TerKeurst, Lysa. Uninvited: Living Loved When You Feel Less Than, Left Out, and Lonely. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2016. p. 58.
  2. TerKeurst, Lysa. Uninvited: Living Loved When You Feel Less Than, Left Out, and Lonely. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2016. p. 8.

Love Thy Neighbor

 

Goodies

This morning, our neighbors left these gifts on our front porch. They have a beautiful garden and raise bees. Every year they share their bounty with us. They are ideal neighbors, and we are grateful for the kindness they have extended in many different ways – everything from inviting us to church to occasionally taking care of our pets and allowing us to borrow tools. They truly epitomize the commandment, “Love thy neighbor” (Mark 12:31).

When Jesus said, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” he wasn’t only referring to the people next door. He meant all people. The commandment is second in importance only behind “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). Loving God means we must also love people. And what a challenge that can sometimes be!

Once, I loved others so effortlessly, but when I was bullied, I lost trust in people. As a result, I self-protected by isolating myself, often saying things like, “I love people, but I don’t like people,” “people suck,” “girls are mean,” and, “I love animals more than people.”

Have you ever found yourself saying the same kinds of things? From where do those thoughts stem? Do you desire to honor God in the highest through your thoughts and actions?  I have heard these kinds of comments from many others who have also been hurt and bullied. I totally understand if it’s easier to converse with your dog or to wrap yourself in the walls of your quiet home than it is for you to deal with difficult people. Mean people are everywhere. It is Satan’s aim to use them to overwhelm our minds, separate us, harden our hearts, and doubt goodness in others. Many of us fall into his trap. That’s why we need to be reminded that there are also friendly, helpful people everywhere, and we can experience them when we set our eyes on “the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living” (Psalm 27:13).

Loving others isn’t always easy. It requires intentional choice, commitment, patience, effort, and forgiveness, and it is a reminder to work harder on growing our character than anyone else’s. Regardless of others’ callousness or kindness, when we strive to serve people how Jesus served people, when we value people as we desire to be valued, we honor him when we honor them. And although we are to love people without expecting anything in return, it’s nice how God shows us love is worth the work. For me, it often comes after I’ve stepped outside of my relational comforts, and this time, love circled back around and ended up on my front porch in the form of homegrown produce. It’s always uplifting to receive a message that tells us someone cares.

We reap what we sow (Galatians 6:7). What seeds of love can you plant and share today?

Dirty