Today we’re sharing an excerpt from Christine Hoover’s new book, You Are Not Forgotten.
What is the specific pain you feel in being unseen?
Perhaps you feel a deep sense of loneliness or isolation. You are certain you can only rely on yourself.
Perhaps you feel the frustrating tension of living under the expectations or standards that others have of who you should be and what you should do but then experiencing the lack of approval when you try to obey the Lord instead.
Perhaps you feel anger at being controlled rather than allowed to be who God has made you to be.
Perhaps you feel shame over labels you’ve carried since your childhood that have mischaracterized you or shown that others have misunderstood you: “the ugly one” or “the fighter” or “the problem child.”
Perhaps you feel disregarded because a relational rupture hasn’t been repaired, and your side of the story was never asked for, heard, or believed.
Perhaps you feel taken for granted because you make your home or workplace hum, but no one seems to notice, and no one offers thanks but rather offers grumbling and complaining.
Probably, you feel unworthy to be seen, heard, listened to, learned from, celebrated, or loved.
How do these emotions, rightly handled, invite truth? When we take them to God, we can cast our specific care upon him, as Scripture teaches us to do.1 And then, as we present ourselves to him, he “casts” truth back to us through his Word regarding that specific care.
We find that God never disregards his children but instead hears their cries and responds to their requests (Ps. 116). We find that he himself was rejected and despised and, therefore, can sympathize with our feelings (Is. 53:3-4, Heb 4:14-16). We find that he takes note of all we do in his name, even if it’s hidden from the eyes of others (Matt. 6:6, Heb. 6:10). These truths, when meditated on, digested, and believed, invite new emotions to replace the old: comfort, peace, reassurance, and gratefulness. We’re safe in him.
Truth invites emotions and emotions invite truth. And the more specific we get with God, the better. Consider, for example, when someone you love offers you a compliment. If he or she says, “You look nice today,” you certainly appreciate the compliment, but the vagueness is like tape with little stick left—it falls off of you quickly. But what if he or she says, “That shirt really makes your eyes pop. That shade of blue is definitely your color!” The specificity makes the compliment more memorable and meaningful. When you see that shirt hanging in your closet, you’ll remember with fondness the words of encouragement, and you’ll likely choose to wear that shirt much more often than before!
So it is with God. Rather than expressing a vague unsettledness (or not expressing an emotion to him at all), we must consider the exact type of emotion we’re feeling and share it with him. Is it sadness? What specific sort of sadness? Is it boredom? What specific sort of boredom? Is it shame? What specific sort of shame? As we get to the specifics of what we’re feeling, we can more specifically and personally come to know God, the many facets of his character, and how he responds to us.
My go-to response to difficult emotions like sadness or loneliness is to immediately do something. I can attack anything with a to-do list or checklist. It’s as if I believe that as soon as I learn the lesson God has for me, I can get through whatever is hard. Or if I just do certain steps in a certain way, I can shorten the suffering. But in the years-long season of unseenness, I experienced such deep suffering that I realized I can’t act my way out of painful emotions. Instead, I began to see them as invitations from God to walk with him in it. I had to get over the idea that my painful emotions are shameful, and I had to stop berating myself with what I should think and feel, as if I should be farther along already.
I began a practice of simply naming my emotions as specifically as possible to God. And then as specifically as possible, I name attributes of God that apply to my emotions or truths from Scripture that speak to that emotion. As I made this a practice, I began experiencing emotion and truth working together like two hands. I would say to God, “I feel hurt today over how my friend so deeply wounded me and won’t acknowledge what I’ve tried to tell her. I want vindication and the truth to be known.” God would remind me that he is Just and that he only judges and vindicates perfectly, so I could leave it in his hands. It was both a sense of conviction to release vindication into his hands and a balm of comfort that God heard my cries and received my requests.
You Are Not Forgotten is available at lifeway.com!
ABOUT CHRISTINE HOOVER
Christine Hoover is married to Kyle. Together they have three boys. When she’s not corralling kids or serving alongside her husband in ministry, she’s writing and speaking. The grace of Christ upended her legalistic life over a decade ago, and ever since then, she’s been passionate about exploring and sharing about how that grace impacts every inch of life.
