Belong and Be Loved — Whitney Akin

The last time I didn’t mind being seen? It hasn’t truly been since elementary school.

Being zany and goofy and the center of attention was not a problem. I was absolutely the kid who didn’t care how she came across. I’d run, yell, make silly faces, dance around, and wear costumes.

There didn’t seem to be much point in reigning myself in. I was safe and secure around the people who cared about me, especially at church. Jesus loved me, this I knew. Why would I want to be anyone other than me?

It took very little to break that spirit.

In elementary school, in front of a group of friends, one girl called me weird–and everyone giggled. As trivial as that sounds, that moment is forever stamped in my mind, because it quietly planted a seed:

You’re weird and different. You don’t belong.

And what’s worse: you didn’t even realize it.

Everyone can see it but you.

From then on, I started putting up red tape. Is this what a normal person would do? Did everyone else get invited when I got left out? Maybe I should tone it down. I made myself quiet and small, perfectly agreeable and eager to please.

Was there ever a moment that planted seeds in your mind that you weren’t good enough to belong?

For me, playing small worked a little too well. As I slipped into the background, people often forgot my name, left me out of groups, and even underestimated me, sometimes treating me with condescension.

It seems backwards, but as much as I made myself invisible, I longed to be seen. I can remember hiding away in another room by myself during events, just to see if someone would notice. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but I’d make myself invaluable behind the scenes, basking in affirmations from those who saw the work I’d done. Conversations would replay over and over in my head as I rehearsed the words I’d say if I felt confident enough to speak up.

Here’s the thing: Everything I was looking for–belovedness and belonging for who I was and what I could contribute–we already have in Jesus. In this, we are emboldened.

If you’re nodding your head at these words, but they don’t actually hit your heart, let’s look at Paul’s words in Ephesians 2. He explains that while we used to be dead in our sins, we were made alive by Christ. This is our identity, individually and communally: precious, made alive, restored and redeemed by grace, and created with purpose.

Paul goes on to talk about how Jesus died to bring us together, to make all people God’s people. And then Paul concludes the chapter with a beautiful image in verses 19-22: “So, then, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with the saints, and members of God’s household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole building, being put together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you are also being built together for God’s dwelling in the Spirit.”

You and I are wired for community.

Belonging is a core human need. We’re not meant to be hidden, nor to do life on our own, but instead to live up to the full potential of who God made us to be, playing our own parts in building God’s kingdom.

And guess what? We belong here. We belong with him and with each other. In us and among us, he is growing good things.

If I could meet that girl today, I’d hug her and tell her how unique and beautiful she is, unlike anyone else. And that doesn’t exclude her from belonging–in fact, it makes her fill a role only she can play. I would tell her she is loved and seen by a God who created her just as she was meant to be.

But since I can’t meet her, I’ll meet you here. And I’ll tell my own daughter she has no reason to dim her shine. The world needs us to be all we were born to be. Let’s clear out the weeds and cultivate seeds of belonging and belovedness.