I remember being a child and being left out.  I have vague recollections of other kids having their cliques and not wanting me to be a part.  The looks, the sudden silence, the sometimes outright rejection…those things leave a mark on a person, especially a child.  They forever changed how I interact with people.  They forever changed how I think other people see me.  As adults, most people have figured out how to hide their overt clique-ishness under a thin veil of politeness and propriety, but the lessons I learned as a child were effectively taught and the biggest lesson among them was that I’m not likeable. As much as people might try to tell me otherwise (which doesn’t actually happen very often, anyway), the bluntness of a child’s words and actions are generally more believable, even decades later.

So, when my kids are treated in that same way that left me with a permanent ache in my heart, I get angry…and, honestly, afraid.  I don’t want my kids to turn out like me.  I don’t want them to grow up convinced that nobody wants them around. I don’t want them to find their value in what someone else thinks of them and I don’t want them to be afraid of people.  But, I feel completely unable to effectively shape their perspective so that they turn out differently.

I know that there are a lot of things that complicate even how children treat one another, let alone adults.  I know it often doesn’t come down to simply liking or not liking someone.  And I know that, sometimes, it does come down to simply liking or not liking someone…sort of in the same way that someone might like or not like jazz music.  It doesn’t mean that there’s something about it that is inherently likeable or not.  It just means everyone’s different, and that’s okay.  Or at least, it’s okay as long as it’s not in reference to me, or my kids.  It’s hard to explain incompatibility to a longing heart, especially if it isn’t a mutual feeling.

So, I try to figure out what God says about it, and I find myself making a huge distinction between loving someone and liking someone, because loving can be just a chosen action, but liking means there’s a connection.  Jesus loved everyone, but chose only 12 to be by His side when the crowds left.  I’m not sure what that means, though.  Surely, there were others who would have wanted to be that close to Jesus.  Maybe even some who felt rejected or left out?  I don’t know.

But, I have to be able to say with certainty, that no mistakes were made.  God didn’t erroneously slight anyone.  He knew why He picked the men He did, and He knew why He didn’t pick others.  And it was the best plan for everyone.  It comes down to the same basic truth in our lives, too.  If I love God, He is working everything out for my good.  If my children love God, He will work everything out for their good.  But being true doesn’t make it easy to accept, and if it is often only with an aching heart and crying eyes that I am able to acknowledge God’s sovereignty in relationship, how can I convince my children?  And since I write to sort out my thoughts, I am just now reaching the conclusion that it’s not my job to convince them.  I can teach them what the Bible says.  I can pray for them.  I can do my best to believe and act according to what I know for certain to be true.  And then I can let God do a work in my children that is not for me to do.  Sometimes, though, that seems like the hardest thing to choose to do.