Toggles Connection Newsletter
Trophies of His Grace
I Found my Place to Belong
—by Teresa
(From the Toggles Connection Newsletter)
Every year there was always one schoolteacher who seemed to delight in dividing the class into teams by choosing leaders who could then handpick their teammates. The rest of the class would line up and stand in a row waiting to be chosen. The most popular kids were always chosen first, of course. Then the ones who were decent at sports or spelling (whatever the game of the day was), were picked. That usually left a handful of misfits nobody really wanted.
The team leaders and their crew would whisper among themselves, rather loudly, over which of these misfits would do the least damage to their team. Finally the teacher would intervene and remind them to hurry along.
I was always one of the three or four children left standing. I was never good at sports. I never could catch a baseball. The darn thing moved too fast, and it scared me every time. Anyway, we would stand there humiliated until finally each of the teams got stuck with one of us misfits.
So I grew up being the last one chosen, and never running with the popular groups at school. I was never “teacher’s pet,” or for that matter, anyone’s favorite. I’m not sure if that was because of the fact that as an Air Force brat, we moved all the time; or if it was because of the emotional problems even at that age.
Whatever the reason, I have spent most of my life separated from the world around me. Mostly I have observed life from behind a large glass window, never really understanding how to become a part of the life beyond my window.
That began to change for me the day the Lord led me to a small church with a giant heart. The first day I visited there, they sang “Jesus Loves Me.” The child inside of me sang. The pastor of that church took time to know each person in his congregation—even me. The hearts of those people reached out over the walls I had built around myself, and each one made a lasting impression on who I am today. For the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged.
Like all good things, they never seem to last long enough. Two years later our Pastor stepped down, and our church disbanded.
I searched high and low for a church like the one I had loved so much. There wasn’t one. Each one seemed to be disappointing in some way—too big; too small. A good pastor; an unfriendly congregation. Always something that just didn’t fit together with what I wanted.
I finally settled on a church—not what I really wanted, but better than no church. I watched the pastor and the congregation, always comparing them to what we had in our other church. Looking through my glass window again, I concluded that this church would never be more than just a place to attend on Sundays.
It was just about that time when I heard God ask “Why?”
I told God all my reasons “why,” but He just didn’t seem to understand. He played a Sunday morning scene through my mind. I saw myself hurrying into the service just before it started. I saw myself sitting on the back row reading the bulletin. I saw myself standing still waiting for people to greet me after church. I saw myself rush out of the building and into the car.
Maybe I know why I don’t feel as though I belong. Sometimes I am emotionally unable to reach out to those around me. However, I have begun to realize that some days I am the one choosing to separate myself from others.
Now, after several years, I am starting over again, reminding myself that I am chosen by the Lord. He doesn’t play favorites. He didn’t leave me standing alone. I belong to a large family of Christians that stretches from east to west. I don’t need to separate myself with glass walls. Although I will always have a special spot in my heart for my old church, I am not following a congregation, or a particular pastor; I am following the Lord Jesus Christ. He chose to die for me. I belong to Him.I
