{"id":60701,"date":"2021-03-31T14:05:44","date_gmt":"2021-03-31T18:05:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.biblegateway.com\/blog\/?p=60701"},"modified":"2021-03-31T16:19:07","modified_gmt":"2021-03-31T20:19:07","slug":"you-matter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.biblegateway.com\/blog\/2021\/03\/you-matter\/","title":{"rendered":"You Matter"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"AmyBy Amy Wolff<\/strong><\/p>\n

Editor\u2019s Note: in 2017, Amy Wolf anonymously staked 20 encouraging yard signs around her small community of Newberg, Oregon. This small act of love quickly blossomed into a global movement. Some of the content of today\u2019s post comes from people impacted by the movement.<\/em><\/p>\n

“For you created my inmost being;
\nyou knit me together in my mother\u2019s womb.
\nI praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
\nyour works are wonderful,
\nI know that full well.”
\n\u2014Psalm 139:13-14<\/a><\/p>\n

My heart was pounding in my chest as our car lurched up the rough dirt road in a village called Mbabe in Rwanda. Today I would meet Jeska and Rosine.<\/p>\n

Our family had written them letters for a few years now, although it was mostly their mother, Jacqueline, who wrote back (Jeska and Rosine were only seven and eight at the time). We had signed up to sponsor their monthly school fees, choosing two sisters around the same ages as our daughters, Harper and Avery.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Our car turned a sharp corner and immediately pulled over to the side of the road. To our left was a small but steep hill in front of a mud-brick house. They stood there waiting for us. I couldn\u2019t get out of the car fast enough, but as I approached them, I realized I had no clue what to do. They looked nervous. I<\/em> was nervous! So naturally, I gave them awkward high fives. Their mother, on the other hand, passionately and incessantly hugged me and kissed my cheeks. Finally, we settled into plastic chairs in their tiny front room as my translator and friend Ephaste helped facilitate a conversation.<\/p>\n

I learned that their father had left them years ago, and shortly after leaving, he passed away. Jacqueline was a struggling single mother renting out a small mud house with no car and no consistent income. She was abandoned and vulnerable, as were the girls. I had no idea.<\/p>\n

At one point in the conversation, Ephaste, who works at the child sponsorship agency, paused to speak to me directly. He explained that our sponsorship was much more than school fees. Our support was interpreted as love, and that love filled a rather large painful gap in this family. A stranger across the world, knowing very little about them, cared enough to send support.<\/p>\n

They felt seen. They felt chosen. They felt loved. Someone believed they mattered.<\/p>\n

Indeed. Which is why I\u2019m grateful that I\u2019m able to return to visit them every other year\u2014not just to tell them they matter but to show<\/em> them. And they make me feel like I matter too. Every year we feel more and more like family (thankfully, no more awkward high fives).<\/p>\n

Do you<\/em> matter? Are you<\/em> seen? Are you<\/em> heard? Are you<\/em> important?<\/p>\n

I imagine that these questions start when we\u2019re young, really<\/em> young. And if you\u2019ve grown up without a steady positive voice in your life, the deprivation of validation may have messed with your sense of self-worth. It\u2019s so fragile. Something as simple as a nasty comment spoken at recess in third grade about no one liking you can affect your whole life. Unfortunately, our brains are wired for confirmation bias\u2014changing our mind is hard when we\u2019ve believed a lie for a long time.<\/p>\n

Whether your parents belittled you, your partner left you, or you simply feel like you don\u2019t fit in, it\u2019s easy to feel invisible and unwanted. When a situation becomes really dark, we can start to question whether anyone would notice if we were gone. Do we really matter?<\/p>\n

Maybe you\u2019re living in a retirement home, feeling cut off from the world. Or you\u2019re clocking in and out of work without one person asking how you\u2019re doing. Or you\u2019re misunderstood because of your physical limitations. Or you feel like the only single, kidless person at church. Or your HIV status makes you feel ostracized.<\/p>\n

Or perhaps, like this young man, you\u2019re navigating a world that misunderstands your developmental or mental disorders:<\/p>\n

As one who struggles with autism spectrum disorder and bipolar<\/em>
\ndisorder, thank you. I joined a youth outreach program that uses<\/em>
\nyour signs to do a weekly sign rally downtown where we hold up<\/em>
\nsigns for traffic on Fridays. It gives me more strength to push<\/em>
\nforward in my efforts to erase the stigmas of both autism and<\/em>
\nmental illness, as I have borne the brunt of both. You shouldn\u2019t<\/em>
\nbe ashamed for what you deal with, nor should you be ashamed<\/em>
\nto ask for help. You aren\u2019t \u201cless of a man or woman.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Do you matter? Yes, the answer is yes. A big, obnoxiously loud yes. The hard part is genuinely believing it of ourselves, especially in a culture that is less than inclusive, generous, or understanding at times.<\/p>\n

It never dawned on me that military members can feel misunderstood too until I received this message:<\/p>\n

It\u2019s no secret that our veterans and military members are<\/em>
\nstruggling. Our jobs can be chaotic, take us away from our<\/em>
\nfamilies, and put us into situations that require extreme<\/em>
\ngrit\u2014and most times, it\u2019s a thankless job. There is a stigma<\/em>
\nthat\u2019s associated with being a military member\u2014that you always<\/em>
\nhave to be completely hardened, constantly training against the<\/em>
\nnext adversary, and ready to fight at a moment\u2019s notice. And<\/em>
\nwhile that\u2019s partly true, it\u2019s also important to remember that we<\/em>
\nare human beings. Human beings are imperfect. Military members<\/em>
\nhurt and struggle just like everyone else. People are hardwired<\/em>
\nto create meaning, and it\u2019s in our darkest moments that we need<\/em>
\nthat meaning the most. Sometimes the only thing a person needs is<\/em>
\na positive sign.<\/em><\/p>\n

Here at our installation, our top priority is to take care of<\/em>
\nour people, and we do this through multiple avenues\u2014but this<\/em>
\nmovement has been a focal point for us. We show up at three<\/em>
\nof our gates at 0600 hours, in 20-degree weather, hold the<\/em>
\nsigns, and wave to every person coming into the base for the next<\/em>
\ntwo hours. Our favorite thing to do is to watch their faces as<\/em>
\nthey drive toward us. They are curious about what we\u2019re doing,<\/em>
\nand then they read the signs. The confusion melts away, and smiles<\/em>
\ncome over their faces. It\u2019s at that point that you know you\u2019ve<\/em>
\nmade a connection. What was just an early morning drive to<\/em>
\nwork turned into something a bit nicer. It never ceases to amaze<\/em>
\nus how impactful the signs are. The reactions to this simple<\/em>
\ngesture show just how much our people need this\u2014to be told<\/em>
\n\u201cYou matter.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

You may feel too different, too broken, too misunderstood, or too invisible, but that doesn\u2019t negate the fact that you are<\/em> important. Your worth is not tied to the evaluation of others or whether or not you fit into a \u201cnormal\u201d box.<\/p>\n

Your perspectives matter. Your feelings matter. Your experiences matter. Your disappointments matter. Your hard work matters. Your creativity matters. Your fears matter. Your ideas matter.<\/p>\n

You<\/em> matter.<\/p>\n