If you are a follower of Grey's Anatomy, you might remember the dramatic scene where Meredith Grey challenges McDreamy with the ultimatum: "Pick me, choose me, LOVE ME." Of course girls across the world are grabbing for the tissues in a weepy mess. I am not the first, nor will I be the last to crave being chosen. Chosen for the sports team out on recess and crossing your fingers that you are not last (if you are as athletically un-inclined as I am), recommended for the job, selected for a solo, identified as outstanding by a professor, pursued by a man. Being chosen, marked for a special task, gives purpose a reason for existence (though our human view of purpose is quite limited).
As we wait to be selected out of the masses, inevitably the clock is bound to tick at least three times slower and we are sure to be spending that time creating a list of our fallacies that will result in being left to last or receiving a Dear John letter. The type-A inside of me is always creating and recreating this list almost to an obsessive degree (ironically the I put un-listing as one of my items on my list of things to improve). But I digress...
The little voice inside of us stamps its little feet and shouts, "PICK ME, CHOSE ME, LOVE ME."
Then my little voice stops.
I have been chosen. I am loved.
With a love not dictated by
It is love unmerited.
1 Corinthians 1:26-29 "Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things-- and the things that are not-- to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him."
It leaves me with nothing but awe. A simple gesture, hands raised in the air. Thus I stand, with arms high and heart abandoned to the One who gave it ALL.