no more rulers

“hey, I’m so glad you’re here.”

I was out of Georgia for about a month. It was my first day back in the office for a while, and we were beginning the week like we do almost every Monday. The worship band was just starting and the lights had just dimmed. And even amongst the obscurity, I saw a friend of mine walk toward me. Somehow he spotted me.

In the most innocent and brotherly and sweet and gentle of ways, my friend hugged me and looked right at me and said, “hey, I’m so glad you’re here.”

He hugged me, he patted my head in a touch of endearment like a father or an older brother would, and he hugged me again. 

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

He had long walked away, but my heart and my face were still grinning.

I think those words touched a deep part of my soul. For the last few years, I’ve seemed to be searching harder and craving it more. To belong. To fit in. To matter. Maybe it is normal for that desire to intensify as we step into adulthood, when both dreams and fears are as real as they’ve ever been. Were both young enough to still dream, and old enough to know the fear of rejection.

Maybe I have heard those words from people before, in various situations, like when I’m running 5 minutes late for a bible study, or when I surprised a friend on their birthday, but this time, it just landed in my heart differently. It landed for real. And it landed deep.

And to be honest, it really didn’t matter who said it to me. It wasn’t significant to me because of who said it to me, and I’m not saying that here, in this community is where I “belong” forever. 

It was significant to me because my presence was appreciated, and my absence had been noticed. It landed deeply because when he said it to me, I wasn’t doing anything. It’s not like when a boss has urgently called you back into work to help him finish this task and upon your arrival he says “hey, glad you’re here,” as he hands you 5 things to do for him. I was literally just existing. I was just standing there.

And those words, even if just for a moment, gave me the freedom to like myself. Like who I am. To like the way I think, and the words I speak, and how I can be a strange goofball who makes people laugh at my silliness. To like my smallness, and even my quietness. I had permission to appreciate who I am.

I do not believe that I was looking at this person to give me acceptance or value in those words, and I know that ultimately, those things come from the Lord. I do not think I would have broken if I didn’t hear those words upon my arrival back to Gainesville, but they did come as a sweet and tender surprise. 

As humans, we crave connection and community. In Genesis, God began creating humanity with just one person, but He realized it wasn’t complete because the human needed another human to connect with and be in communion with. As much as God was good, and big, and perfect, and satisfying, He recognized that man needed another like himself. And sometimes, I will still wander to the wrong things or wait for the words of people to tell me I matter. But this wasn’t like that. It was simply pure, and kind, and a reminder of the Lord’s voice, and affection for me.

It’s reminded me of what a dynamic community I have found here. It’s reminded me to sit on the floor eating chips and salsa with people who like me for exactly who I am. And to drink margaritas on the patio with friends who let me be my full self. And even when I’m tempted to, I need to refrain from busting out the metaphorical measuring cups and rulers that I’m so used to using to see if I have value. Because I don’t need them anymore. I know I have value and I am important whether or not people express it, and even whether or not I feel as though it is true. 

Maybe some of it was the representation of the goodness and the love of God in a tangible way. Sometimes I’m showing that love to the people in my life, and sometimes, they are the Lord’s mouthpiece to me. It was as if God was saying to me, “Hey, kid, I like you and I’m proud of you.”

Community is a beautiful picture of people being Jesus to each other. As humans, we are in a place where we both need people to be Jesus to us, and where sometimes, we are that person for others. When I heard those words that day, I wasn’t hearing it from this friend, or from this community specifically, I was hearing it from the Lord.