Everyone has a desire to be known.

And as long as we’re known for something, we feel safe, like we have a place in the world, in society, even church. That’s why we have things like a “Hall of Fame” page in high school yearbooks that showcase “The Class Clown”, “Most likely to be the President of the United States” and “Most Popular”. Never mind that it’s probably not true, but it makes those selected few feel absolutely awesome, and the rest absolutely depressed. Why? Because the rest of us don’t feel known!

Then a whole trail of questions follows …

“Well, why am I not known?”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
“Why can’t I be a little more like her?”
“Doesn’t anyone see all that I do?”

My journey in Indonesia has partly been about this, and I’ve asked all the questions above. Coming to a new place where nobody knew me fueled the insecure girl in me to want to be known even more. The past 17 months have been a grueling, I mean refining, process of God un-doing and de-programming me from my self-centered and build-my-own-kingdom tendencies to learn (and learn over and over again) that only one thing really matters. I’m known by Him.

One summer night, my friend and I caught glimpse of a little girl and her dad. The girl and the dad were face to face holding hands, and then in the next second he threw her up in the air. He kept on going- tossing her higher and higher. We were at first really worried for the little girl. But the shrieks and squeals that soon came after reassured us that she was absolutely thrilled. I think we stared at them for a good few minutes.

Do you think it mattered that people were watching them or were even around them? Do you think she cared whether people knew who she was or not? No, because only one thing mattered. She was known by her dad.

But the [wo]man who loves God is known by God. 1 Corinthians 8.3

Girls, let’s pursue this journey together.


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