Rejection From Man Doesn’t Mean Rejection From God
“Nothing in this world can permanently strip hope from our lives.”
“For we did not
follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our
Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.” 2
Peter 1:16 (NIV)
There’s nothing quite like waiting 15 years to receive a phone call. When it finally came, it was the slightest crack in the doorway of my dream to be a speaker.
I was hesitantly excited. When you have wanted something for a long time and it comes close enough to become a reality, it’s thrilling and terrifying all at the same time.
Suddenly, your heart shifts from neutral into this vulnerable place where acceptance commingles with rejection. And you are all too aware, things could go either way.
So, I packaged up a CD of one of my talks and sent it off. And I let my mind prematurely celebrate.
Then I waited.
And waited.
And nothing.
Feeling like a foolish girl who’d bought a prom dress before actually being asked to the dance, I sheepishly called to inquire whether or not the CD had been received. I was told it had been and if I hadn’t heard anything yet, I should assume it was a “No.”
Ouch.
That’s when you go sit on your back deck, close your eyes and decide whether to let the tears slip quietly down your cheeks or blink them back in an act of courageous defiance.
Rejection stinks.
I mean it really stinks.
It stunk when no guy asked me to couple skate in the 5th grade. It stunk when when my dad left our family. It stunk when I thought I was getting engaged at the very dinner when my college boyfriend broke up with me. It stunk when for years, all of my book proposals were declined by publishers. And it stunk when I sat on my deck and processed this situation.
Sometimes things like this just simply stink and there’s no cheery rainbow or pot of gold around the next corner. The music doesn’t crescendo as the hero in the story swoops you onto the side of his horse and the two of you ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after.
Sometimes it just is what it is. And that’s that.
But God’s girls have a beautiful promise tucked in our pockets that lets us smile even when tears puddle in the corner of our eyes. Even when there’s no rainbow, pot of gold or galloping prince—we have the promise of resurrection.
On the other side of death there will always be a resurrection of some sort. Maybe not a resurrection of our circumstances. And maybe not a resurrection of things lining up like we thought they should. But there will be a resurrection.
Jesus has insured that.
Nothing in this world can permanently strip hope from our lives when we know “we do not follow cleverly invented stories about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ” but we follow the reality of the Risen One (2 Peter 1:16).
Jesus.
The One who was well-acquainted with rejection. The One who was betrayed, abandoned, beaten, crucified and buried. The One death could not hold down.
He is our resurrection.
He is our hope.
He is that beautiful reminder that rejection from man doesn’t equal rejection from God.
And He is the One who is weaving a story into our life that will one day make sense.
Dear Jesus, You know what rejection feels like. That’s why You are the perfect One for me to run to when I feel rejected. Today, I’m bringing you the broken pieces of my heart and asking You to stir hope deep within me again. Rejection did not get to have the final say in Your life, and I am choosing to believe it will not have the final say in mine either. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
There’s nothing quite like waiting 15 years to receive a phone call. When it finally came, it was the slightest crack in the doorway of my dream to be a speaker.
I was hesitantly excited. When you have wanted something for a long time and it comes close enough to become a reality, it’s thrilling and terrifying all at the same time.
Suddenly, your heart shifts from neutral into this vulnerable place where acceptance commingles with rejection. And you are all too aware, things could go either way.
So, I packaged up a CD of one of my talks and sent it off. And I let my mind prematurely celebrate.
Then I waited.
And waited.
And nothing.
Feeling like a foolish girl who’d bought a prom dress before actually being asked to the dance, I sheepishly called to inquire whether or not the CD had been received. I was told it had been and if I hadn’t heard anything yet, I should assume it was a “No.”
Ouch.
That’s when you go sit on your back deck, close your eyes and decide whether to let the tears slip quietly down your cheeks or blink them back in an act of courageous defiance.
Rejection stinks.
I mean it really stinks.
It stunk when no guy asked me to couple skate in the 5th grade. It stunk when when my dad left our family. It stunk when I thought I was getting engaged at the very dinner when my college boyfriend broke up with me. It stunk when for years, all of my book proposals were declined by publishers. And it stunk when I sat on my deck and processed this situation.
Sometimes things like this just simply stink and there’s no cheery rainbow or pot of gold around the next corner. The music doesn’t crescendo as the hero in the story swoops you onto the side of his horse and the two of you ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after.
Sometimes it just is what it is. And that’s that.
But God’s girls have a beautiful promise tucked in our pockets that lets us smile even when tears puddle in the corner of our eyes. Even when there’s no rainbow, pot of gold or galloping prince—we have the promise of resurrection.
On the other side of death there will always be a resurrection of some sort. Maybe not a resurrection of our circumstances. And maybe not a resurrection of things lining up like we thought they should. But there will be a resurrection.
Jesus has insured that.
Nothing in this world can permanently strip hope from our lives when we know “we do not follow cleverly invented stories about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ” but we follow the reality of the Risen One (2 Peter 1:16).
Jesus.
The One who was well-acquainted with rejection. The One who was betrayed, abandoned, beaten, crucified and buried. The One death could not hold down.
He is our resurrection.
He is our hope.
He is that beautiful reminder that rejection from man doesn’t equal rejection from God.
And He is the One who is weaving a story into our life that will one day make sense.
Dear Jesus, You know what rejection feels like. That’s why You are the perfect One for me to run to when I feel rejected. Today, I’m bringing you the broken pieces of my heart and asking You to stir hope deep within me again. Rejection did not get to have the final say in Your life, and I am choosing to believe it will not have the final say in mine either. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
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