I CHOOSE YOU

"I choose you." I don’t know why that phrase is so important to me. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be chosen above all others. I wanted to be that special person that stood out among the crowd. As I got older and started being interested in boys, I wanted that moment where you saw “the guy” and he saw you. Although the room was full of people, you knew that you were the only one that he could see. Even the Barbie blonde that sashayed when she walked, legs were as long as my entire body and her laugh sounded like a beautiful chime in the wind that stood near me, he didn’t see. He still only saw me. The little ‘ol country girl, every inch of me, with the mousy brown hair, a shapely figure and my laughter made you feel the need to look for an egg.

I remember several times in my life that I wanted that “I chose you” feeling so bad I could taste it. Once, I was sitting in my dad’s study with the Chairman of the Board, a Deacon and my dad, AKA the Pastor. He was telling me that because I went to my “friends” and told them to quit gossiping about me, I made this “matter” a public one and he would have to publicly punish me. What in the world could this offense have been that I was punished for 90 days from having any leading role at my church; no singing, teaching, helping or attending any functions? I kissed a boy. No, I am not kidding.

One of my best friends, a boy 3 years younger than me that had fallen for me, saw me kissing my boyfriend, (that actually became my husband) and starting talking about it with the other teenagers. It escalated into stuff that wasn’t true. I walked in the middle of them and called them out. As soon as I did that, I pulled my dad and mom off the platform and sat them down in the Pastor’s study and broke the news. I will never forget my dad’s face. Ever. I’ve never visibly seen disappointment before. I did that day. My first kiss wouldn’t be at the altar. It was in an elevator, the day after I turned 19.

His face went from disappointed to embarrassed. He didn’t say it, but I could tell he was mortified. Then, he was angry. I could see his thoughts, “everyone knew, this is a reflection of me”. I didn’t get caught having sex or was pregnant, I kissed a boy. He sat up straight and further back in his chair. I could feel the separation. I could see it as if he wrote it out and signed his name that his little girl, his “nearly perfect” kid, was tarnished. I was tainted. His sermon illustration of his parenting ability was gone. Now, it would be a tale of woe. It was if I traded that kiss for my dad’s approval. He will tell you, to this day, that I was the perfect kid until I started liking boys.

When I was sitting in the study and hearing my punishment, I felt like I was having an out of body experience. I could hear the voices, see the disapproval and even see myself sitting there listening to every word with a blank look on my face. I looked up from staring at my hands because a new voice got my attention. The deacon was speaking. It wasn’t just a different voice that snapped me out of my revelry; it was the quiver in it. I caught his gaze and saw that he had tears in his eyes and was struggling to keep it together. He told me that his girls had gotten excited about church and serving the Lord since they had gotten to know me. That he wanted to thank me for being me and was sorry that I had to go through this. He couldn’t believe that I sat there and just took it without saying a word. He felt that it showed maturity and integrity. He got done and I had to remind myself to close my mouth. Why would this man that has known me for a year say those things and my own dad sounded as if he disowned me? What I didn’t know until I was an adult was this man and his wife was pregnant with their first child when they got married. Can you imagine how he felt when the law was brought down upon my head for a kiss? He and his family, which was half of the church, left shortly after. My dad eventually resigned the church.

What most people never knew was when he resigned, we moved into a home that was set up almost like a college dorm for missionaries to stay temporarily. I had a room down a couple hallways and my parents shared a room with a kitchenette. My dad wouldn’t even stay in the same room with me. If I tried to talk, he would ignore me or walk out of the room. I cried myself to sleep for a while. I just kissed a boy. After the tears stopped, the disbelief and desperation came. I was married within 4 months.

I was so confused and lost. I had done it all right. I abode by every rule and guideline I was ever given. I had never even put a pair of pants on my body at that point. I wore dresses. I could ride a bike or get up into the bed of a truck, all while wearing a dress. I was teaching Jr Church by age 11. We went from 10 in attendance to 50 in less than a year and that was in a little mountain church. I helped in the bus, nursing home and music ministry for as long as I can remember. I read my Bible. I had a passion for Christ. My nickname was “Pastor Lamb” in high school. There was even an ongoing bet with some of the guys in school who could get to me first. No one won. I never rebelled. I was never grounded. I never even questioned anything. I followed everything my dad said because he said it. Why couldn’t he have chosen me? Why did he have to write me off?

“I choose you”. 

I have lead many people to Christ in my lifetime but since this instance, there is a part in the “Roman’s Road” that gets me every time. Romans 5:8 “But God commendeth (to praise someone in a public way, to mention approval) his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” When I am talking to someone about Jesus and leading them through the verses, I describe this verse a little something like this:

“Jesus didn’t turn away from us although we are sinners. He doesn’t turn His face, raise His nail scarred hands blocking us from His vision. He loves us even more because we are sinners. He loves us because He died for us. He was hanging on that cross and He looked through time and saw my face, knew my name and knew that I would sin against Him and still died for me. If I was the only person in this world, I believe with my whole heart, that He would die for me.”

HE CHOSE ME. Jesus, God incarnate, chose me. He loves every inch of my 5’2 ¾” frame. He loves that I have a 30 year smoker laugh when I get really tickled. He loves that my love language is sarcasm. He loves me no matter that I have made mistakes. He loves me even though I let Him down. He loves me when I come off biting because my heart is breaking and I don’t realize its showing. He loves me when I feel like I’m a failure or He made a mistake in me. He loves me even though I kissed a boy. He loves me even though I am divorced. He loves me even though I am not perfect. He chose me!!!

That is a feeling that I will never, ever get over. Sometimes, I let the Devil convince me that Jesus regrets His choice but if I wait and listen, I can hear Him calling my name in love. 

No matter who didn’t choose us when we needed them to most, we ARE chosen. 1 Peter 2:9 “But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous light:” Don't give up hope. Don't lose faith. We could all take a trip down memory lane and see times like these when we just wanted someone to choose us even when we weren't making it easy. Even if you feel completely alone. YOU ARE CHOSEN. He looked through time and saw YOUR face and died with you in mind. He chose you. He chose to bear the cross so you could have a relationship with Him and live with Him forever in Heaven. It is up to you whether you choose to accept that beautiful gift of love that He displayed for all the world to see. It's there, say to God, "I choose you."