One of the cool things about Jesus was his openness. There was never a question he wouldn't answer. In fact, he seemed to relish questions.
Do you ever get the sense that you have been tried and found guilty of belonging to a group that is "lesser?" You are written off completely by someone who doesn't know you because you are in a certain phase of life, age, gender, hair color, etc.
Well, I felt that today. I didn't handle it too well. I was all fired up and ready to let it be known just what I thought about this discriminatory attitude, when...God stopped me. Not like my hands locked up, or my jaw went stiff (geez, that would suck) but He whispered in my thoughts, "Why do you care so much what they think?"
I sputtered for a minute, but I couldn't come up with an answer that would sound anything but trite in the presence of the Almighty, who, incidentally, is responsible for my phase of life, age, gender, hair color, and all of the etcetera.
He then reminded me of the time in when Jesus asked the disciples, "Who do people say the Son of Man is?" And people, as they are wont to be, were way off base. But then he asked, "But what about you? Who do you say I am?" Good ol' Pete got it on the first try. "You are the Christ, Son of the living God."
Well, today, God prodded me to ask him that same question. "Who do You say that I am?" And the answers were stunning.
Beloved. Child. My portion. Daughter of the Most High. A little lower than the angels. Saint. Redeemed. Precious. Mine.
Jesus knows me. Really knows me. He loves who I am, where I am. To Him I am not a checklist of attributes deemed good or bad.
So, who am I gonna believe? Um, I'll go with the Creator of the Universe, thank you much.
People will call us all kinds of things. I hope most of the bad ones are said outside my hearing, but even when I catch the unkind word, I will let it be just that. A word. Not a definition. Not truth.
Instead, may I always turn to my Father and be reminded of who I am by the One who made me. I am my Beloved's and my Beloved is mine.
Random sidenote: Blogger doesn't recognize etcetera as a word. how weird is that?