letters and lattes

Rejection. 

I have tasted rejection
In a thousand different ways
The comment that was ignored
The smile that was not offered
The way you walked out of the room
As I walked in
The invitation that was extended
Humbly and nervously
Only to be discarded, I assume. 
I never even heard from you. 

Rejection that has made me 
Sadder
Stronger
Braver 
Weaker

Rejection that has made me hide
And stuff every good thing
In secret pockets
Bulging beneath the surface
So deep dark and forgotten
They are a mystery to me now. 
What did I place in those hidden depths?

Beside lint and broken pen lids
Are my hopes and dreams
My confident faith in who I am 
And all I could dare to be.

It could all end here
With my treasures hidden away.
By grace, the words I name myself 
Are not the final word.

I kneel at the altar
Emptying my pockets 
The array of objects laid out in a line
An offering of my soul - 

In surrender
In worship
The dull made brighter
That which was rejected is renewed. 

And His banner over me is
Love.
The words I say about myself
Are not the final words
I am beheld. 

fin.

Rejection stings, am I right? It stings in every single one of its varying degrees and iterations. It doesn’t matter if it was being excluded from a conversation or an event. Or a lack of welcome, a loss of intimacy and relationship. It stings when our application is rejected, from a job or position or elsewhere. It is a stamp that reads ‘not good enough.’ Part of this is the link to failure, and although “failure makes our heart soft,” we live in a society that is not comfortable with failure. And if we let it, it becomes the label we wear. It becomes the stamp we spread across our being. It becomes the signpost we extend, a banner that holds everyone at arm’s length.

It is easy to label ourselves by this rejection and live out of this wound in all future interactions. Maybe you are familiar with this for yourself or someone you love. That in your relationship it seems to be two steps forward and one step back, not being able to pass a threshold of vulnerability where you could love each other more fully. This might just be that rejection is a core fear. What does that mean? It means¹ that for some people the fear of rejection is so strong and so ingrained that they will reject others first to avoid being rejected themselves. You may be thinking, well that’s not logical. And you would be right, it isn’t, but that is fear dear reader. Illogical life-diminishing fear.

I will admit, I have fallen into this trap a time or two. Where I have sat in my rejection (real or perceived) and allowed it to permeate far deeper than it should have. I gave it far more weight and permission than it was entitled to. And like fear, it ran amuck. If you have read a few of my pieces you might have noticed a bit of a theme with my processing, it applies here as well. Ever since I was little I would work through my big scary feelings by withdrawing and writing them down. Sometimes they would be coherent sentences of narrative or reflection, but mostly they were disjointed poems or poetic prayers. I would find somewhere quiet and in solitude would write out my feelings and then I would pray. Sometimes I would cry and more often than not, I would have other words to end my poem with. What started out as a deep lament turned in the third act to praise and thanksgiving. 

The feeling may remain unresolved – it is not up to me to force it.

I wrote this poem initially about six months ago. And I left it. I knew it wasn’t finished, because it doesn’t end with my every good thing hidden in my pockets, but I didn’t have the ending yet. I knew there was more, the third act turn, but I didn’t have it. I was still feeling the rejection (of what? I’m honestly not sure now). I did not have the ending, but I was no longer lamenting. I knew, as I know now, that God is faithful. And although I might not get a third act turn, the poem and the feeling may remain unresolved, it isn’t up to me to force it. My responsibility is to remain in prayer, to be obedient, to continue sowing into community and to be patient. Even if nothing else, these actions will nourish my soul and my faith. 

Then two things happened. 

First, I actually had a long drive and listened to a podcast. The ending thought was around failure and our negative self-talk, that the love and grace of God has the final word, pulling us out of what we say about ourselves. The final words of the conversation were this; “the words we speak about ourselves do not have the final word. I am beheld.”² And I was late to my PD session as I sat in my car for five minutes to (a) let that sink in (b) listen to the final words again and note them down and (c) clean my face.

Second, I had another blow of rejection that stung and I wanted to shove myself into a hole, along with the things filling my pockets. In a moment of prayer during a church service I was thinking about this, about the imagery in the start of this poem, the feeling of rejection. I heard God say, “lay them on the altar.” I closed my eyes, knelt down and metaphorically placed an array of items on the altar. I envisioned them to be mostly various rocks. They were dull, misshapen, insignificant.

As I continued to pray, in my vision I saw each object turn over, slowly and carefully. As they turned they were no longer dull, they were glowing and brilliant. They were renewed. As I am writing this now I’m getting teary at the wonder and grace of God, of his love for each and every one of us. I had the ending to my poem and I wrote it then and there.

A few weeks later, I revisited it. As I polished it from the rushed dot-points at the end of the church service I had the feeling this was not just for me. Although this was very specifically the encouragement and word I needed to receive, that it is not just for me. 

So, dear reader, may you be encouraged that the words you speak about yourself are not the final word. That in your pain, your frustration, your waiting, God is faithful. That God knows the dusty dull items you have shoved in your pockets and the label of rejection you have stamped on yourself. That he will renew each one of these items. That you are known, you are loved. That like me, dear reader, you are beheld. 

Go well

Steph

¹ There are a lot of excellent resources on this and I am not going to pretend to be expert enough to recommend any in particular or synthesise these for you. I will say this was brought to my attention through my own experience with counselling and found the conversation in this context helpful to better understand and build relationship with those affected by it in my circles.

² Miroslav Volf, “Life Worth Living.” Everything Happens with Kate Bowler (podcast), S10 E13, May 30, 2023, accessed August 15, 2023, https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast/everything-happens-with-kate-bowler/id1341076079?i=1000624691194