Even the ones I love most deeply here on earth will fail me. There are times when they won’t hear me, or see me, or know what’s going on inside of me. And I will fail them in the same way. But my savior has carved me on the palms of his hands, scars from the nails which held him to the cross.
Photo Credit: holding hands | “…holding hands with her dad as though she w… | Flickr
Have you ever felt invisible? I have. At least once a day. Often more times than I can count in one day. Completely and utterly invisible.
It happens in my classroom. I say something with what I believe is enough volume for the entire room to hear, but my students continue in their routine as if I’d said nothing at all. The other day one of my preschoolers seemed excessively absorbed in her activity and oblivious to me calling to her, “Sweetie, do you even hear me? I’ve said your name at least seven times.” “No, teacher,” she replied. “You only said it three times. I’ve been counting.”
It’s no different at home, with my kids. Time and again, I make a request to my son or daughter while they’re engrossed in play, unaware of my invisible plight. One time I asked my son why he wasn’t listening, and he told me, “Wait a minute, Mommy. I can’t hear you. Let me get these fruit snacks out of my ears.”
There have been times when I’m pouring out my heart to my sweet husband and he turns up the radio to hear the sports score. And times when I’ve shared an entire story at a family gathering only to find no one was listening. Or times when I’m in the store waiting for help and the clerk walks right past me to the person across the aisle.
It’s one thing to feel invisible, another to feel forgotten. I remember years ago, desiring children while others years younger than me had more kids than they could handle. And after, going through the long, lonely, and painful adoption process…twice. Even today, my heart now filled full with the joy of motherhood, I find myself waiting in new ways, for different things—sometimes tempted to think I’ve been forgotten.
What carries me in the midst is the reminder that I’m not invisible or forgotten before my father in heaven. Even the ones I love most deeply here on earth will fail me. There are times when they won’t hear me, or see me, or know what’s going on inside of me. And I will fail them in the same way. But my savior has carved me on the palms of his hands, scars from the nails which held him to the cross.
He knew me before the beginning and he will carry me through to the end. Not a tear goes uncollected, not a prayer goes unheard, no matter how long I wait in the in-between, or no matter that the answer may be no or not now. He always hears and ever answers, even when it’s not the answer I desire or expect, I know I’m not forgotten.
If you feel forgotten, know that there is a God whose name is El Roi, “the God who sees me.” When no one else sees. When no one else cares to see. His eyes invade our hearts with light powerful enough to split the darkness and birth new life. Knowing we are seen, knowing we are heard…knowing we are KNOWN is reason enough to live.
Comic Credit: Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes
Photo Credit: Alone, Man – Free images on Pixabay
What is this load that you carry?
I see you are weary –
Life weighs you down
What is this burden you bear?
You’ve no one to share
Your unspoken prayers, your secret fears
Your hidden tears
What is this sorrow that lies
Behind downcast eyes
Would you be surprised to realize
That someone has seen
And heard
And known
Your heart?
Before God your heart is laid bare
And this I declare
That before the foundations of the world
He knew –
Proclaimed that you would need a Savior
And He alone could provide
He alone would decide
To suffer, to die – and yet to rise
Because you were His pearl of great price
Do you not know? Have you not heard?
It is finished
Your debt paid in full
It is finished
Your sins are no more
It is finished
Lay that burden down
Wear His joy for your crown
It is finished
Your Savior has come
The only One
Who owns the key
Who is the Door
To freedom
(Originally posted by Jen on FaithWriters, Helium Network, & the Nightlight Blog)
Our Savior understands our daily battle with temptation, and yet, because he has overcome, he is able to help us to overcome.
Photo Credit: Surfer – Free images on Pixabay
I refuse to believe we were created for bondage. We were not placed on this earth to be enslaved to never-ending moral decay. We were planted here by a loving gardener who desires for us to grow and flourish and have life that is truly life.
Photo Credit: Free photo: Crocus, Alpine, Snow Mountains – Free Image on Pixabay …
“Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)
Photo Credit: File:P3AR’s track “Artists”.jpg – Wikimedia Commons
It was my son’s first time at a play. When the curtain closed after the opening scene, he whispered, “Is it over yet?” I smiled and gently explained that there were many scenes to come before the end. He endured the remaining acts with impressive restraint for a four-year-old, though on the way home he broke down in tears. I thought it was because he’d bumped his head on the theater railing after the play, but instead he cried with greater drama than any of the actors combined, “That play was so long! It was super, super long. It was tooooo long.”
Sometimes in life, the curtain falls too soon. We’re in the midst of a trying circumstance or we’ve made some huge mistake, and we presume it’s over. Not realizing we’re on scene one of a multi-act play, we succumb to despair, thinking there’s no opportunity to redeem the mess we’re in.
Other times, it seems we’re trapped in a never-ending drama. Scene after scene unfolds and we find ourselves asking, “Will it EVER be over? How much more can I possibly endure?” We don’t realize the author has built one scene upon the other to grow his characters until the great and final outcome.
I’ve been thinking on this theme of 13 Reasons to Live for a few weeks now, considering what brings us to the point of despondency and what can bring us out. Wondering how we come to the point of wanting to give up and thinking upon all the reasons we shouldn’t.
Maybe we come to the point where we don’t have the fight in us to make it through one more act. What we don’t realize is this crucial truth of life: It IS a fight. Anything worth living for is worth fighting for, and will take fighting for.
I’m not talking about war in the way of battles and weapons. I’m talking about the day-to-day fight that must be fought for anything that’s good and worthy and true. It’s a spiritual battle, and often emotional, sometimes physical in the way that it drains our reserves and our resolve. If we’re not prepared for the battles that come, we will falter when they do. But if we’re in it for the fight, we’ll endure through the fight.
And what carries us through the daily warzone? The knowledge that we’re in the midst of redemption’s story, in which the Author of all life is the Author of our lives, working every scene together for good.
We may think it’s over, but in His hands, it’s not over until He says so. Only the Author can determine the end.
Or maybe we think it’s endless. But there will come a time when the battles of our days will cease. We’ll see that it was worth the fight, and it was worth our living and enduring. Because no Author starts a good work without bringing it to completion.
“Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)
Photo Credit: Bella Rose Arts Centre – Wikipedia
This Life & Beyond 
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