Awhile a back now I mentioned how I deeply desired to be more real in this space. By more real, I mean showing the world that I’m a real person behind all these devotional and grace notes and that every word here comes from a real and imperfect person. So here’s a real moment for you all this evening. Tonight I threw my hair into braids so I could get to work on some fresh baked pumpkin bundt cake for our church potluck tomorrow. These braids remind me of a much younger me, an eighth grade girl lost in insecurity who wasn’t cool but knew she couldn’t be like everybody else. That insecure girl, curious about the realness of the God she loved, hurried her way through high school hiding behind piano sheet music and spending quiet evenings in a George Webb diner with her newly found Love. Years later she would go on to find that though she could remember every face from those high school years, there were a handful of people who couldn’t remember hers. That’s right. I’ve run into a handful of people over the last few years, girls I sat in class with, girls I traded notes with, who simply don’t remember me being there. I felt hurt the first time around, confused the second, and dumbfounded the third time. But here’s the thing. I was quiet and all those years I felt I wasn’t good enough to really be known. And even into adulthood I’ve felt the same way. “How will the world remember me” turned into “Will the world remember me?”. Jesus says He will never forget me, that my name is written on the palms of His hands. Maybe this world isn’t about making waves, but is instead about riding them out. Maybe this life is about learning to walk upon them, looking solely to Jesus…who will always know our names. That quiet, awkward, self-conscious girl has followed me into adulthood, but now she knows her own name to be this: Beloved. I am beloved by Jesus, by my husband, by my sweet family, by my small but dear circle of friends. Do I have the crowds behind me? No. Will the world remember my name? Probably not. But my tiny world is still rocked by the presence of the people Jesus has placed into it, and I know that in some small way, I get to rock their world too.
A Fellow Grace Wanderer