For most of my life, I have felt like I was a mistake. I just knew that God had not meant for me to exist. You see, my parents didn't plan to have me. Like many exploring young adults (like YA was a thing then) in the 70s, they married out of social convention after my mother got pregnant. As often happens, it wasn't enough to sustain a marriage, and they divorced quickly after.
To be honest, I hadn't even thought through the idea that I might have been an accidental pregnancy until, at the age of thirteen, my step-father revealed this information to me. I don't know if he wanted me to feel closer to him through this revelation, but there would be many like this over the years, and needless to say, the effects were often heated resentment toward him and a growing feeling of worthlessness in me.
The long-term consequences of our childhood epiphanies--good and bad--are often haunting and, in certain circumstances, devastating. They can lead to addictions, dysfunctional adult relationships, and even settling for less than we deserve. These are only a few of the ways those negative ideas from our past continue to shape a sometimes hopeless and sad future. I know I've let those thoughts continue to make decisions for me.
That worthless feeling rears its ugly head in the way that I refuse a backrub from my husband because I don't feel like I deserve it more than anyone else, or the fact that I can't seem to ask for things I really, really want because I don't feel worthy to receive them. Silly, I know. It especially becomes sillier as I type it and tears form in my eyes. Yet, the most dangerous way it shows up is in the way I deal with conflict. I shrink like the most-baked shrinky-dink (there's a throw-back). I give in almost every time because I don't feel worthy to state my reasoning. In my mind, I immediately begin to justify why the other person is right and why I, clearly, am wrong--because I don't feel confident in my own mindset.
Now, the rational part of me (and, yes, there is one) tells me this is all negative thinking that I could easily overcome--if I would just make an effort. But, instead, I choose to wallow in the self-loathing that feels like an itchy, yet familiar, wool blanket.
Then, today happened. Now, this wasn't a complete cure, and it is something that has been building in the corners of my mind for some time now. I listened, once more, to the Christmas story. Not the "you'll shoot your eye out" Christmas Story, but the story of Jesus' birth from the Gospel of Luke.
To make things even more interesting, the first people the angels revealed the birth to were shepherds. So what, right? Why is that such a big deal? It was a big deal because despite what we might believe about the benevolent job of a shepherd--the gentle souls who spent their time directing the sheep and keeping them safe--the profession was not highly regarded. As a matter of fact, shepherds were usually the outcasts, not gentle souls at all. They were the ones who couldn't find work doing anything else because they were often the degenerate youth. They were not impressive in any sense of the word. I'm just hazarding a guess here, but I would say there were times they felt pretty worthless.
Yet, the angels revealed the birth of the awaited Messiah to them first. To the worthless--FIRST.
Why would God choose shepherds? Why would He choose the worthless? Why would he choose me?
There it is. This is why He revealed Himself to shepherds first. It's why He chose the worthless. It's why He, much to my surprise, chose me. Accidental, mistake, worthless--me. And, it's why He, undoubtedly, chooses you.
This won't make the negative thoughts that ease their way into my conscious brain disappear. No, they still invade. I'm still a big, 'ol screw-up, and I mess things ups daily, including dealing with conflict, which leads to more negative thinking. That hasn't changed, and it won't any time soon. But, now, despite the fact that I still feel worthless, I know one thing is true. I have worth to the Creator of the universe. So much so, He revealed His birth to my kind first. To the worthless of society. I have an importance that is baffling--totally irrational--to the Savior, but it's beyond question now. It's right there in the story of His birth. It's throughout the New Testament. He came for me.
He came for you--no matter how worthless you feel. No matter how much you feel like a mistake, like an accident that should never have existed. He loves you anyway. He loves you with an extreme kind of love. He loves the broken, the worthless, the accidents of the world. These are the ones He came into this world to save. To Him, the last are first. You are first. You have great worth in His eyes, and nothing will ever change that.
