Most of us know the story of Jesus asking his disciples "Who do you say that I am?"
We've read it and heard it in Sunday school and in church. Just like I did this past Sunday. The story was told, and as always, it struck a chord with me. It resonates because the answer is true for me- he is my savior.
But then, working just along the edges of my prayers was this question- "Who do I say YOU are?"
It's a much harder question to answer. It's a question of worthiness and of giving yourself permission to be loved.
It's about stepping out into the faith that if you love Christ, you are loved in return. And not only loved, forgiven. And not only forgiven, but a new creation. And not only a new creation but righteous.
No pressure.
Ahem.
This is what I grapple with the most. I want to feel SMALL. I want to feel unworthy. I want to feel lost in the shuffle. I don't want to be important or to be beloved.
Because then I have to wrestle with feelings of being worthy. And those are feelings even pandora would run away from.
I've spent a lot of time trying to be good. Trying to be love able. Trying to serve and give. I've cultivated a mindset of jumping in when others don't because I've been there. I've been the homeless kid asking for money. I've been the kid at school with no lunch. I've been the woman at the grocery store with not enough cash. A thousand different scenarios.
We've all been there right? When we look around and there's not a friendly face to be found? When circumstances rise up to us and circle like jackals. And we feel alone in the fight, backed up against a wall.
When we think we've established a life where we need never feel lonely again. But we still end up there, where it's only us with our thoughts and deeds. When we end up misunderstood and judged and left behind.
That's where all the scripture about crying out in the wilderness, about saving grace and redeeming love should be relevant.
But sometimes you are still alone with just words. Words of life and of truth, yes. But God never promised to remove loneliness and pain. Just that in the midst of it, he would be there.
And so when he asks me "Who do I say that you are?" The answer is loaded with emotion and fear.
I am His. I am all of the things He has said.
But to FEEL that...to really be in it, to walk in it -even when everything around you is telling you that you are alone? Well that's another story.
I hear, and my body trembles; my lips quiver at the sound; rottenness enters into my bones; my legs tremble beneath me. Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble to come upon people who invade us. Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places.
Wow. That's a lot of faith right there. And that's what it comes down to then right? That if we believe God is who he says he is, we have to believe that we are also his creation, made in his image, and beloved by Him.
Despite our circumstances and our sadness. Despite the world that tells us we are unimportant or others who disregard us.
The world and people can and may reject us. The word of man can be betrayed and vows revoked. Nothing in this life is certain.
Nothing but the love of God. Despite how unworthy we may feel or how small we are. How much we want to hide or how much we wrestle with the worthiness of our lives.
When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
Who does he say that I am? His. Even as work toward being worthy, he calls me by name.
And despite my feelings of unworthiness, I answer and I follow.
