I couldn’t write it fast enough.
The same phrase over and over.
I scribbled speedily, unable to see through the tears falling endlessly onto my journal’s pages.
The page was full.
But it didn’t help. With one hand I grasped my stomach, trying desperately to hold in the sobs. With the other hand I covered my mouth, attempting to mute them. Perhaps if I squeezed hard enough the ache would go away.
I had written it over and over hoping that the words would jump off the page and sink deep into my heart. But I wasn’t sure I believed what I was writing.
I have always feared that I didn’t matter.
I’ve spent a great deal of my life trying to matter. I spent years performing on stage trying to matter. I spent years crying as I looked in the mirror at the endless flaws trying to matter. I spent years in school trying to matter. I went overseas trying to matter. I worked in ministry trying to matter. I worked in jobs trying to matter. I exercised and dieted trying to matter. I wrote blogs trying to matter. I made jokes trying to matter. I went through my days trying to matter.
Trying. Me working to matter.
When I got sick, sometimes I would lay in bed for days, unable to walk. Unable to do. I could only be. And the Lord began to teach me in those painful hours that I mattered. That my worth and value did not come from what I did. That if I was too sick to get out of bed for the rest of my life, I mattered. My life was not meaningless.
Then two years later, I was thrown away.
I was deceived. I was lied to. I was betrayed. And I was thrown away.
Without a second thought.
Without a care.
Without an apology.
Disposed of. Traded in. Thrown away.
I am struggling incessantly to understand. To make sense of it. But there is no logic to be found. And the pain is unbearable.
I have experienced great pain in my life. But there is a distinctive pain that comes with this. When you are treated as nothing. When you are disposed of as if you were unwanted trash. When a person you trusted and cared for, by their actions, tell you that you are of no worth. That your life and your heart and your feelings do not matter. That who you are is not worthy of meaning.
When someone throws you away.
So to the girl who has been thrown away, I write this to you.
Perhaps you have been thrown away by a parent. Or maybe both. Maybe you were thrown away by a best friend. Or a group of friends. Perhaps, like me, you were thrown away by a boy.
I want you to know that I am in the trenches with you. I am crawling through this pain. I am not soaring. I am ugly snot faced weeping through this pain. Literally. I’m a mess. And I am not trying to compare my pain to yours. I just want you to know that your pain is real. Your pain is valid. And you are not alone.
And what I am about to say might sound trite. It might even be eye roll inducing. I pray that is not the case.
But I want you to know that you matter. You really do. And I know you can write it over and over and over in your journal, you can tattoo it on your wrist, and you can hear it said a million times and not believe it. I understand because I’m right there with you. But just because we are struggling to believe doesn’t make it any less true. You matter. I matter. That is true whether we believe it or not. And it’s true whether someone else believes it or not.
I want you to know that you are of incredible worth. You have intrinsic worth as an image bearer of God. That means it doesn’t go away. No matter what you do. And no matter what someone does to you. If you have been thrown away, you have been sinned against. Someone has broken you. But your worth didn’t change in that moment. And it has never and will never change. The God of the universe treasures you. You might not feel like that is true. Right now, I don’t feel like that is true. But our feelings do not define what is true. You are precious to Him. He created you. He loves you. And you are of great great worth.
I am sorry that you were thrown away. I am deeply, deeply sorry. I am sorry that you have been made to feel like you do not matter. I am sorry for the hurt and the pain that you have or are experiencing.
As I was praying the other day, the Lord reminded me the simple yet profound truth that He made my heart. He knows every nook and cranny–every last bit of it–because He designed it. He knit it together with His wise and perfect hands. He knows mine is broken right now. He knows mine has been used and thrown away. But who better to trust to mend it than the One who made it? I want control of the healing process. And I (REALLY) want it to move faster than it is. But the Lord is teaching me to entrust the mending to Him. In His timing. In His hands. He is the trustworthy and faithful healer of the brokenhearted. And He is not going to forget to mend mine. And He will not forget to mend yours.
Lastly, to you, sweet reader. Forgive those who have thrown you away. Forgive them. And know this. The Lord will never throw you away. He will never change His mind. Or find someone new or better. He will never lie to you. He will never deceive you. He will never play games with your heart. He will never disregard your feelings. He will never devalue you.
Rest in the truth.
He will never throw you away.