Things to Remember When You’re Feeling Unwanted

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Saturday was Clayton’s first football game. Clayton is the 9 year old boy who currently lives at my house with his mom, Jenny.  I forgot my pom-poms but dressed in team colors with Nikon in hand, my husband and I walked into the ballpark ready to cheer on our little friend.

Jenny met us at the gate and pointed, “We are under that green tent, I left something in my car, be right back.”  We found Clayton’s grandparents and I sat in the chair Jenny brought from our house.  Jenny never sits, she’s too excited. The sun was bright but dark storm clouds were gathering, it was about to be a drencher!

The parents in front of us asked which player was ours and we told them it was our friend’s son. The dad admitted he needed someone to root for to make things more exciting; his daughter was one of the cheerleaders in front of us on the sideline.

There were several other parents in the tent.  When one woman entered, our new cheer-dad friend said, “Come on in, we’ll make room for you.  After all it is your tent!”  They scooted their chairs up, and I scooted mine to the far edge of the side, Barry and Jenny stood behind me.

By the middle of the second quarter, the rain started.  Just a sprinkle at first, then heavier.  More and more people took shelter under the various tents, including the one we were under.  There was chatter around me, but I was busy trying to find Clayton on the field with my lens.

Then above all the other voices I heard, “Oh you mean MY tent. Yeah, I couldn’t even tell it was my tent.”  And as I looked over my shoulder, the green tent owner was rolling her eyes and shot a look in our direction.  In that moment I realized we were the cause of the chatter.  We were not actually welcome in this tent at all.  I had assumed Jenny knew the green tent mom, and that she knew we were Jenny’s friends. Now it seemed that was not the case.

After another minute or two, and some more chatter, I stood up and folded up my chair and moved to stand behind Barry.  Instantly, green tent mom violently planted her chair in the spot mine had been, even though she wasn’t sitting, she was certainly going to claim that space.

I felt the heat rise in my face.  I felt embarrassed and ignorant for not knowing proper peewee football game tent protocol.  I felt like I had imposed myself into a place and into a group where I was not invited or welcome.  I felt like an outsider.  I wanted to leave right then and never come back to another game, to never have to see these people again in my life.  I felt a sting in the corner of my eyes and I couldn’t believe how much this was upsetting me.

Barry could sense my mood had shifted and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you having headache symptoms?” I shook my head and under my breath, “No, snarky mom symptoms.”

The seconds counting down to halftime could not pass quickly enough.  At the buzzer, I turned and hugged Jenny and whispered in her ear, “Do you know the person who owns this tent?”

“No,” She said.

“Well, we are not welcome here. She’s made a couple comments, so we are leaving because I don’t have to be subject to that.  Here’s my camera, you’re welcome to use it for the rest of the game.”

With every step I took on my march back to the parking lot the fuller my eyes got, until the giant tears spilled over my bottom lids and down my face.

I felt foolish for letting something so minor and petty make me this upset.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it was so upsetting, really.  But I recognized it was obviously a trigger of some larger emotional issue.  Something I didn’t even realize was still rooted that strongly in my heart.

Suddenly, I was back in middle school and my older brother, whom I worshipped, was telling me through verbal and non-verbal ques, “you’re annoying, I don’t like you, nobody wants you around.”

I’ve come to coin this feeling “Annoying Little Sister Syndrome”.  And I didn’t even realize it was an issue in my life until I was 25 and reeling with the emotional fallout of my divorce.

I went through a small group journey at my church called the “Free Journey” and realized so many of my insecurities and behavior in and from my marriage stemmed back to my childhood rejection from my brother.  For example: Any time my husband chose to spend time with anyone other than me – like a guy friend – all I heard and felt was, “you’re annoying, I don’t like you, nobody wants you around.”  So I would lash out in anger or with a controlling response.

I started to see how these feelings had manifested themselves in high school and into my adult years.  I was possessive and controlling of my friends – and would become hurt or offended if they had friends outside of me.

But these feelings started even before my brother got “too cool” for me during his teenage years.  My brother’s behavior only reinforced the whisper of a lie that was already planted in my mind.

For as far back as I can remember, I used to run away and hide from my parents every chance I got.  I didn’t even know why I was doing it but what I did know is the longer it took them to find me the less loved I felt.

I remember one time I ran outside after church one Sunday and hid in the tall grass behind the building.  I was laying there watching the clouds, I may have even fallen asleep.  But I also remember hearing less and less voices and car doors in the parking lot until finally there were none and I was alone.  They didn’t find me, they didn’t come for me, they didn’t even notice I was gone!  Rather than panic, I started to cry.  Because my parents hadn’t come after me, I obviously was unwanted and unloved.

In reality, I went to a small country church a mile from my house with most of my large extended family.  So my parents just assumed another relative took me home.   As soon as they realized that wasn’t the case they came back for me and found me inconsolable on the stoop of the sanctuary.

My parents were incredible and unconditionally loving, they did absolutely nothing at any point in my childhood to signify that I was either unwanted or unloved by them.  So where did this idea come from?

You and I have an enemy.  He is crafty and mightily skilled at deception.  He is referred to in history as the “great deceiver” and the “father of lies”.

From the day we are born, he begins whispering seeds of doubt, fear, insecurity, and downright un-truth into our tiny ears and hearts.  Maybe for you it’s not “unwanted” but, “ugly”, or “ignorant”, or “worthless”. And then he waits for any circumstance in our life that we could interpret as a reinforcement of those lies.  He leaps at the opportunity to water and fertilize that seed so that it takes root and sprouts in our life.

In the opposite corner of the ring from our enemy is another Person – our ally, our friend, our creator, our Father.  He has also been planting seeds in our hearts from the moment of our conception.  These are seeds of Truth and love and acceptance, of purpose.

Just like a garden will be overcome entirely with weeds if not properly tended, so our hearts will become overrun with lies, choking out the Truth, if not guarded and maintained with the same care.

What you fertilize is what flourishes.

Fertilizing lies can happen many different ways.  For me, I was seeking my entire sense of approval, acceptance and self-worth in whether or not my brother thought I was cool enough to hang with he and his friends.  And before then, it was whether or not my parents noticed I was missing “fast enough”.

And it manifested itself in my behavior – always being the “good one”, the “perfect” one, the “popular” one people wanted to be around.  Always concerned with my image and my performance.  Perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfect athlete.  While simultaneously being the perfect partier, the perfect drinker, the perfect flirt and “cool enough” to fit in with whatever crowd I wanted.

Whatever I needed to do to be positively reinforced and affirmed by people in my life.

And this was just rooting those weeds deeper and grooming them for continual growth.

Conversely, fertilizing Truth only happens one way.  By seeking your approval and self-worth from THE Source of Truth.

And it has nothing to do with your clothes, or your grades, your friends, your job, or how well you follow the rules. It has nothing to do with what you can do at all.  It has everything to do with sweetly resting in the fact that God loves you – no matter what.

The last thing I want is for this post to sound hokey and churchy.  To be glossed over and concluded with, “what a friend we have in Jesus”.

The truth is, I didn’t have this revelation while I as living my perfect life and everything was going great for me.  I had this revelation for myself when I was at the bottom of my lowest pit.  I was broken, and battered, I was making bad decision after bad decision and hurting a lot of people in the process. I was disappointed in myself and I imagined so was everyone else.  I felt like I had ruined my life beyond repair.  I had no hope for anything good in my future.

And I was angry at God because I felt like I had played by his rules and lost big time.

It was in this place, when I was running fast and hard and far away from God that He chased after me relentlessly and passionately.  I felt him saying, “Honey, all those thing you think you know about me aren’t true. Come get to know me for yourself.”

He wanted me.  He liked me. He did want me around.

In 2013, Dara Mcclean released a song called “Wanted” (if you’ve never heard it, go listen now) my favorite lyrics are:

From the day you were born
And took your first breath
You opened your eyes and in came the light
He was watching you
But all of your life you couldn’t shake the lies in your head
Saying you’re a mistake
Oh but you were made
By a God who knows your name
He doesn’t make mistakes

You are wanted

The first time I heard those words I cried, and every time since I can barely sing along through my sobs.

I remember driving through downtown Vancouver a couple years ago with my windows down in my rental car blaring music from my phone. The sidewalks were crowded with swarms of bodies.  When that song came on, I remember looking around and really seeing each individual person.  At each stoplight I studied them.  Tears blurred my vision as I wondered, do they know these words are true? Have they ever heard this before?  As they are walking down the road right now are they questioning if they have a purpose or a plan for their life?  This may be the only time they hear this message.

I wish so much that I could open up my head and let people who are hurting inside for even just a minute.  I want them to see what I see, and feel what I feel, and know what I know about their Father who created them.  Who loves them.

Just think about that for a second. The Creator of all the universe looked into it and saw fit to create one of you, that you were needed.  He not only loves you, He likes you.  He wants you.  He knew beforehand every mistake you would ever make and STILL He wanted to bring you to life.  And He STILL wants to be with you now.

Once you really grasp that for yourself, other people’s opinions and approval cease to matter.  You might still shed a few tears over a peewee football mom‘s snarky comments or unwelcoming attitude but at the end of the day you are reminded that you are wanted and welcomed by the One who really matters.

Keep watering those seeds.  And pluck out the weeds of doubt that tell you otherwise.

For the record, I ordered my own tent on the way home, so I will never have to experience that feeling again.  At first I told myself and we will not let a single other person use it but us.  But then I changed my mind and decided the stipulation for our tent will be that it is open to anyone, and everyone is welcome to use it.  I really wanted to order a custom-made banner that read: “Welcome! Come use our tent!” with a line in parenthesis below that said “because we are not ass holes” (haha …this is me still not being perfect.)  But, instead I just ordered a simple “Welcome” banner.

And if green tent mom ever gets stuck in a rainstorm at a game, she will have a place to stay dry and feel wanted.

welcome tent

Little Sister, Please Remember

A Response to “Big Brother, Don’t You See….”

Little sister, please remember

big brother isn’t perfect
nor will he ever be
if you put him on a pedestal
one day he’ll let you down, you see.

Little sister, please remember

He’s a human being just like you
You need to let him be
Give him room to grow and grace
To make mistakes, he’s free.

Little sister, please remember

if you adhere him to your standards
he will never measure up
always falling short of
filling your half-empty cup.

Expecting him to be perfect
So critical we are
But who are we to judge?
Or to be setting the bar?

So little sister, you have a job to do
and I pray you do it well
appreciate his good
and only praises tell

Love him great
and cover his faults
and when he’s mean
Know it’s not your fault

Sister, when he falls and scrapes his knee
you be the one to help him back up.
And when he fails at 33,
you be the one to help him back up.

For Big Brother he needs
approval too
He needs to know
he’s doing well by you.

Little Sister please remember,

He’ll always be your brother,
and friend if you’ll let him
So stay close to one another
And in time you’ll see the lesson:

That the fights never mattered
and the bickering was in vein
God created you for the other
to mold and shape and train

Preparing you for things in life
that were put here just for you and he
Each a purpose to accomplish
and people who need who you will be.

Little Sister please remember,
It was never really about you and big brother anyway.

Big Brother, Don’t You See

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A few weeks ago, I sat watching my niece and nephew play together.  I smiled and felt a sting of pain simultaneously as I watched the way she looked at him.  She never left his side; she needed to be everywhere he was, doing everything he was doing, at every moment.  And to use an antiquated expression, you would think he hung the moon by the look in her eyes.

“It starts that young”, I marveled aloud to my husband.

At 20 months she already idolizes her almost 3 year old brother.  I wondered at what age he would become cognizant of it, and how he would take to that responsibility – knowing little sister is always watching.  I wondered if he would be loving and inclusive like he is now, or if he would be cold and dismissive and indifferent like my big brother had been to me.  My eyes stung with tears as I wished so much for him to be the prior.  I thought about how much that yearning to be just like him would grow and manifest in different ways as she got older.  And I prayed a silent prayer she wouldn’t fall into the trap I did of needing acceptance and affirmation from the one human being who withheld it from her.  I prayed she would know she is loved and wanted, even in the times Big Brother wasn’t showing it.

Later that week as that memory replayed in my mind, I started to put these words together, “Big Brother don’t you see….”  I decided to sit down and write a letter to Jeremy, a lesson or reminder for him that Big Brother is a big responsibility.  I knew it would be read to him now and he would not fully understand, but I imagine him pulling this letter out over the years, as he grows and his knowledge and understanding develops.  As he enters different life stages, these words will take on new meaning with each reading.

I was only a few stanzas in when I found myself weeping inconsolably at my computer.  I realized I was writing this letter to my 35 year old brother as much as I was to 35 month old Jeremy.  I was saying all the things I wish he had known and been conscious of as we were growing up.

As I was writing, my heart broke thinking about how much pressure all this was on little Jeremy – to be all these things, to be EVERYTHING to his little sister.  And I suddenly saw a piece of the puzzle I had never seen before.  I saw how much pressure and unrealistic expectations I had put on my own Big Brother.  I thought about how hard that must have been on him, always being on a pedestal and living in a glass house.  Never having any room to make mistakes and learn without immediately feeling like a huge disappointment. And in that moment I wept for him also.

So I penned a response to the first letter for Penelope called, “Little Sister, please remember….” Things I wish I had known, and what I want Penelope to know and and be mindful of as she grows.

It’s taken me a while to settle on just the right words and I wrestled with whether or not I would share it with the world, or just them.  My husband read it and was deeply moved and convicted about his relationship with his little sister, he said he thought it was a good reminder for every Big Brother (and little sister) to have.  So here you go:

Big brother don’t you see?

Big brother don’t you see?
her little eyes are watching,
watching everything you do.

Big brother don’t you see?
she wants to be just like you –
always emulating –
a lifelong game of monkey see, monkey do.

Big brother don’t you see
the way she follows you around
and looks up to your example?
Your feet never touch the ground.

There’s no more super a hero,
in a cape or tights
Though she loves father,
it’s brother she longs to be just like.

So, Big Brother, you have a job to do
and I hope you do it well
with all your heart and soul
and your striving never quell.

say your prayers
and brush your teeth
mind mamma well
don’t forget your q’s & p’s.

hold her tight when she cries
when she’s scared in the night
because in those little eyes
you make everything alright.

She won’t be little long.

So love her well
and show her right,
and always be the one
to settle the fight.

When you’re older,

hold your temper
and mind your words
because everything you say
matters most to her.

Forever your sister,
A friend if you let her.
Oh Big Brother can’t you see?
There’s nothing she’d like better.

You are her whole world
her moon and her stars,
And so also the one who
can cause the deepest scars.

So let her tag along
and be a part of things
tell her she’s included
and just watch the joy it brings.

Big brother don’t you see?
That’s all it takes to show
that to brother she matters
and that’s all she needs to know.

Click Here to Read “Little Sister, Please Remember”