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Thursday, June 3, 2010 22 comments


A few months ago I was riding on a school bus full of inner-city elementary kids on our way to go roller skating. I was sitting in the back of the bus, because that is where the cool kids sit, and I was just making conversation with one of the boys, when this girl, two seats behind me said, “Hey Daniel, why are your eyebrows like that?” I said, “What do you mean?” “Why are they so awesome looking?” And she said, “No what’s wrong with them?” For a split second everything inside of me wanted to lash back. I wanted to say, “What’s wrong with your face, and why’s your nose like that? And look at your kitchen!” I recently learned that amongst the inner-city youth the back of someone’s neck is called their kitchen, because the hair back there is always messy, like a kitchen. I wanted to tell her how clogged her drain was, and about the scum in her dishwasher. But then I remembered that even though I was riding on a school bus and getting picked on, I wasn’t in elementary school anymore. And even though I’ve been picked on most of my life because I have extra dark, ultra thick eyebrows, I quit caring what people thought of them a long time ago because on most days I live with a secure feeling that comes from knowing that I am loved and valued by the only one whose opinion actually matters. And so instead of cracking on her messy kitchen I just said, “Thanks for pointing that out, I used to get made fun of all the time for my eyebrows, but it’s cool. I don’t know why they are the way they are except God made me this way so I’m ok with it.” She just said, “oh ok,” and stared back out of the window. A few seconds later I heard another kid in the front of the bus picking on some girl for the way she looked. He was cracking on her weight, and her teeth, and I could see by the look on her face that those words were sinking like daggers in her soul. With hot tears streaming down her face and with her eyes clenched tight, she screamed at him, calling him names, and repeatedly demanding that he shut his mouth. After reprimanding them, I sat there and honestly felt sorry for them both, because like most of us, neither of them were capable of seeing what God sees when he looks at us. I sat and wondered about all of these kids on the bus, and just how different their lives would be if they all knew deep down in there souls that were loved by a great God; that they were created with intricate precision; that they were each complex masterful works of beauty; and that when God made them he sighed and called them "good." Everything that has ever been made by the hand of God has been given great value. He made you and me and everything He’s made, He’s called good. I wonder how our lives would be different if we really believed that.

I’m sure most of us to a certain degree do believe that, at least I’m sure we mentally agree with the idea that God calls us good, and that he does love us. But how deeply have we allowed that belief to sink inside of us? Does it change the way we see ourselves in the mirror or what we put on before we leave the house, or how we act in public to try and get people’s attention? Honestly I think for a lot of us, we are still starving inside for love and attention and acceptance. As Christians we should be totally secure in knowing that we are deeply loved and cherished by a great God, but instead we are mostly insecure, which is why we still spend so much time and effort and energy trying to get people to like us. It affects the clothes we wear, the people we hang out with, and the things we will say and do. It’s exhausting really. We run around living like circus clowns all dressed up performing for everyone just hoping someone will clap for us. And if they don’t, well it can be devastating, right? When no one cares about all our little efforts to be liked, or worse, when instead of clapping for us they throw vegetables, it can be soul crushing. Why is that? I believe it's because each of us were created in such a way that we cannot be secure on our own; our security has to come from someone else. And that someone else is God. We need his love in our lives like our bodies need food and water. So it makes sense why we all fight for love and respect and value and attention so much. We are dying here without God’s love in our lives, and so we become desperate for anything to make us feel ok. And that is why it hurts so bad to be disrespected or devalued, why we care so much about peoples opinions, because we are hopelessly grasping for some security, and most often we are reaching in the wrong directions. No person can make you feel totally secure. Their words will inflate you one day like a balloon, and then burst you the next day, plummeting you back to the ground. If our security is not found in Christ alone, every opinion or word spoken to us or about us can deeply affect how we feel. Even if what they say is ridiculous. But what if your security was found in Christ alone? What if you really believed that you are a masterful work of beauty, fashioned by a powerful loving God, and that he created you exactly how He wanted you to be, and when He looks at you He calls you good? What if you really believed that God not only loved you, but was actually crazy about you? The bible says He literally delights in you. He is passionately in love with you. What if that belief went deep into your soul like water, bringing life to the dry and cracked areas within you? What if you allowed that belief to transform what you believe about yourself? How would your life be changed?

Psalm 139:13-18
13 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. 15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. 16 You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. 17 How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! 18 I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me!