On the outside

I was talking with a friend a few days ago. She said something I've been ruminating on ever since. She said that she didn't want to live her life as an outsider.

This comment immediately resonated with me. An outsider. Yes, I know that feeling. I know it all too well.

Feeling like an outsider never feels good. In fact in can feel incredibly, painfully, life-alteringly bad. I think we tend to associate that experience with childhood or adolescence- not getting invited to someone's birthday party, being left out of the "cool" kid group- that's a normal part of growing up. Kids have to learn to cope with those experiences. So we adults advise children on how to deal with being left out. We say things like, "be who God created you to be." "Surround yourself with your own group of friends who enjoy you for who you are." But, my friend's comment, and my own experience, let me know that those experiences are NOT limited to a life stage. But we sort of act like, now that everyone is all grown up, we aren't going to experience marginalization, and if we do, we need to just pick ourselves up by the boot straps and move on. No one likes a whiner. That's a great way to stay on everyone's outside.

But I've been on the outside and it has made me sick. Heart-sick, physically sick. I'm too sick to go on. And my boot straps are broken. God is telling me to stop. Stop trying to get inside. Stop trying to fix it. Stop and just reflect on the experience that has pushed me to the outside, that has thinned out my mind, depleted my hope and eaten away at my body.

So I'm starting something. Call it a new chapter, a journey, a transformation- I don't know how to classify it, really, but it's something new. I'm going to start saying "Yes," to things that lead to wholeness and healing, and "No," to things that tear me down and seek to destroy me. Part of saying yes is telling the truth about this. I'm going to tell my story. In bits and pieces. Fits and starts. It isn't going to be beautiful. It might not even be coherent, but I'm going to tell the truth about what has happened to me.

I'm going to tell my story because Jesus is in it. And because, the one thing that I know deepest down is that I was made to glorify Him. When I reach the light at the end of some dark tunnel. When I receive new revelation that I cannot keep inside- it's always about Him, about raising His name high, about telling you the truth about Him. That's my purpose. I won't retreat from that purpose.

My sweet friend's words resonated in my mind and circulated through my memories, but rather than staying stuck in pain, Jesus did a good work. He reminded me that He does not make me feel like an outsider. I don't have to prove my worth or change my behavior to be with Him. I'm not looked down upon or pitied. I'm not a target or a scapegoat. He doesn't misunderstand me or ignore my desperate cries. He is my Shepherd. And, even in my darkest, most pain-filled places, He is there. He doesn't value one race or ethnicity over another. He has sheep from many folds. We can all be inside with Him- each and every one of us who believes in our hearts that He is Lord. And (blow my mind) if one of us gets out, He will come and find us. I don't want to be an outsider, either. Thank you, Jesus, for ensuring my inclusion- not just here, but for all of eternity. 

As this truth has settled into my heart this week, it's changed the way I've looked at my classroom, my own little sheep pen. My heart felt flooded with love and a desire to train, serve and protect the ones that God has given to me this semester. To let them know that, no matter who they are, no matter where they come from, no matter how they perform... I want them. They are mine. And, God help me, because my time and energy are so limited... when one wanders off, I want to go find them.

It's going to take a long time and a lot of truth-telling to heal. But it's going to happen as I do this. As I lay down lies and speak and begin to believe the truth. I hope this is a good start.

The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. 
Psalm 23:1