TO BE CHOSEN
In school, I remember the days we’d play dodgeball. What a brutal sport. They generally saved it for Friday’s (like it was such a treat), oh, JOY! I was skinny and slow and better at socializing than sending a ball into the face of my opponent. Moreover, my nature was to never do that anyway because it just wasn’t nice. As the story goes, my face was the one most often met by the ball because, instead of aggressively going after the ball and hurling it back over, I was chit-chatting with my fellow teammates who really weren’t into dodgeball either. It was a game for the athletic and evil, and, when both came together, get low (literally).
But, more terrifying, for me, than the actual game itself was the strong possibility of not being chosen by a team early on. It’s the only experience I’ve ever had that resembles being drafted early, but, to that note, professional athletes, I get it. It’s more about ego than it is about the game. But, when you’re one of the last men standing in the vetting process for which team you’ll end up on, it really does a number on your confidence and altogether worthiness. Even though dodgeball wasn’t anything I was the least bit interested in as a kiddo, I still wanted to be chosen. The truth is, we all want to be chosen.
This last weekend, we celebrated my Sister’s upcoming marriage with a super sweet Bridal Brunch and Bachelorette Party to follow. And, honey-bunnies, did we ever have ourselves some fun. Everyone was happy and having a grand time all in the spirit of celebrating my Big Sister. But, what touched my heart most was the number of people that made a point to let me know how honored and grateful and downright excited they were to be included. One friend said, “This is my first Bachelorette Party ever.” Another said, “You don’t know how much it means to me to be included in this. You all still remember me.” And, the last comment, “Always the reader or singer but never the bridesmaid. You cannot know what it means to me that I was chosen.”
Chosen. We all want to be chosen. It doesn’t matter how young or old we may be, we still yearn to be chosen. Why? Because being chosen validates our worthiness. It tells us that we’re important, that we matter. No matter how much we evolve, the truth is that we always need the validation. We all yearn to feel important, needed, worthy.
I have no idea why, but I always knew that I would outgrow and possibly outshine some of the dodgeball stars of elementary. Every single round that passed, and I wasn’t chosen, I thought, “Oh, you better hope I don’t have to choose who goes to UIL because it won’t be you, buddy.” LOL! I really didn’t do that, but somewhere in my heart, looking back, I wouldn’t feel bad if I did.
Today, let this sink in. You were chosen. Long before you ever dropped into this universe, you were chosen. Biblical scripture tells us that our Creator even knows the number of hairs on our heads. That alone should affirm that we’re important. We are God’s. He chose us. Now, as my Mom would say regarding any morsel of information that we need to hang onto, “Stick that feather in your hat.”
Friends, thank you for choosing to read this humble little blog for the fortieth week. I’m blessed beyond measure that you chose me.
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