Being Picked

I think I agree with the general psychology that says we carry childhood issues into adulthood with us. I think one of my "things" has always been being one who was picked. Either because of my potential value, or proven worth, or importance... the list goes on. The little voice inside me still, at 34, says, "Pick me!" I remember not making my senior H.S. Homecoming court by one vote, and the burn in my heart because I knew I had not even voted for myself, but another girl on the ballot. If I would've only voted for myself then I would have been picked. I remember an atypical orchestral try-out for an international group I toured Europe with when I was 15 years old. We had to discuss and choose our chairs based on how we thought we played. I neglected to choose principal chair because I thought it was haughty, though I had never received any lower placement than first chair due to my skill and training. I ended up third chair by default, and was absolutely ill about it (until the end of the rehearsal when the conductor shouted, "Heidi, get up in first chair, and Dan, you're always out of tune! You sit third!"). After being embarrassed by third I was picked for first.

Today it's therapeutic for me to say I've been picked again. First, my husband, who consistently picks not only me but our whole family, chose to go to an important meeting with me that he did not have to attend. We both had a crazy night with the kids, who were pretty much up from 2-430a with various needs. He had stayed up late and worked the night before, and uses Saturday as a work day... but wearily looked at me this morning and said, "I think I'll come with you. This is a pretty big thing for our family." And just like that, I was picked. Secondly, my mom, who I've mentioned in the past having a crazy list of dependents back in Michigan, chose to come out here for 10 days to be with us all as we await/survive the end of this pregnancy. She had a million other things that were pushing for her attention, but instead, she picked me. No, I didn't have the baby while she was here, but the around-the-clock helpful presence was perhaps even more of a blessing than had a newborn been in the mix. I got to watch her drink up her grandbabies and delight in their developments, and enjoyed working alongside her throughout the day. ( I also got two homemade pumpkin pies out of it too... oh yummmmm.)

Thank you, Lord, for the way you continue fill the little holes and divots in my heart. Thank you for picking me every single day. And thank you for those who love me and my family so much that we live in the security of knowing we have been, and will continue to be, chosen.