"I count myself one of the number of those who write as they learn and learn as they write." ~St. Augustine

Tuesday, November 20, 2012


I so long to be known.  I want to be well known.

The more I am getting to know myself, the more clear this truth becomes...  I just want you to know me.  That is the cry of my heart.

Please know me.

And, I think this is a human cry---or at least a common one!  For most people, if you ask them about themselves (or something that interests them), they won't stop talking.  If you can get someone to share even a bit about themselves, it opens a flood gate of conversation. Generally humans want to share themselves--- of course in safe places--- but, they want you to know them.  I want you to know me.  The deep bits and the surface bits... the mountains and the valleys.

Have you ever seen the glow in the eyes of a young child?  When you get down to their level and look straight into their eyes, asking and inviting them to keep sharing their thoughts,  "Tell me more about that!"   We seem to come out of the womb wanting to communicate who we are, what we are feeling, and what we think about this and that...

It is why we share our thoughts about politics, about the traffic or the weather.  It is why we are desperate to tell people about our achy leg or our bad night's sleep.  And, when someones remembers or follows up about our painful shoulder:  "How is that feeling?"... we feel loved.   We feel known.

Or, at least, I feel loved.  And, known.

On the flip side, I realize I get hurt when I perceive that someone doesn't want to know me.  When they are too busy, or two preoccupied to really listen or to remember to ask.  I realized this morning that when I am not pursued, or asked, or "cared-for" in this way, ...somewhere deep within me I get hurt.  It is a "little-girl" kind of hurt.

I feel unwanted.  Devalued, maybe.  Do you see me?  Do you even want to know me?  

Maybe this is an old wound from childhood---when I felt too young, or too quiet, too ugly, too stupid or too unimportant to be remembered or asked after.  Pushed aside.  ...what I felt or thought or saw was not as important as the big "other" people around me.  What they are thinking and feeling trumped my thoughts and my experience.  I don't know.

Early this morning I became aware again of this ache.  I felt unsettled and asked the Lord, "What is it, Lord?"  Why is my soul unwell this morning...? 

I just want to be known
.  The thought bounced around my head.  I want to be thought of and valued.  To be noticed.  Seen.

Then my eyes fell to Psalm 95:4, "In his hands are the depths of the earth.  The mountain peeks belong to Him."

The depths of the earth.

We just studied the layers of the earth in science yesterday.  Did you know we have never actually seen beyond the earth's crust?  No human.  No scientist.  No actual instrument has touched the center of the earth.  (or even come close!) We haven't seen the mantle and the core.  On one level, we don't really know what is down there.   We have never made direct observations of the earth's mantle.  Now, we do have much data that explains what is beyond the dirt upon which we walk. We have solid and trustworthy hypotheses and indirect observations that describe the depths of the earth.  But, we don't know.  We can't dig deep enough.  There is no drill to go that far---it has been unreachable, because of temperature and pressure.

But, this He knows.  The depths of the earth are known to God.  He holds them in His hand---he can see them, touch them, manipulate them, care for them and crush them if He wills.  He holds them.  He knows.

I know you, Stephanie...  His loving Spirit whispered into my soul.   You are known...

He knows you, too, my friend.  He values.  He sees.  He hears your heart's cry.  You are known.  

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