The story ...
I remember walking up to the door of my seventh-grade Sunday-school room. The girl that I secretly loved was with a friend who she seemed to identify with. The friend asked me to show them my fingernails. I paused before extending my open hand and fingers with my palm facing the linoleum floor. They both broke out laughing - "you're like a girl! Guys show their nails as a fist with palm up." I was secretly crushed, likely tried to pretend I wasn't affected, yet I must have emoted my internal reality. My secret search for love was publicly dashed. I added a few plates to my personal armor to guard against that from ever happening again. Oh... the pain of rejection - my wounded heart!
How might the one church in town have helped me? My Sunday school teacher might have noticed my behavior change. Someone might have realized that I had no best friend at church. As some aptly describe, I felt like I was alone on an island yet surrounded by people. My parents forced me to go to some of the youth meetings - I didn't engage. I became cynical and critical about the group that rejected me.
In High School, I got a job that allowed me to miss every other Sunday service. I tried to bring order and meaning into my life without God's help. I didn't even know that a right relationship with God was possible.
Thoughts for the day ...
"So I continued to hide and did not accept who I really was." Hope for Today (p. 33)
"Today, being humble means climbing down from the ladder of judgement of myself and others, and taking my rightful place in a worldwide circle of love and support . . . My thoughts are my teachers. Are they teaching me to love and appreciate others, or are they teaching me to practice isolation?" Courage to Change (p. 33)
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