Pick me.
It was on the elementary school playground picking teams for kickball. My hand raised high in the air, flailing, praying that I wouldn’t get picked last.
It was in high school when all the prettiest girls got chosen to be on homecoming court, hoping that I get picked.
It’s when I get all dressed up and parade around a piece of paper that showcases all of my greatest attributes, wanting the employer to pick me.
Most of my life I’ve wanted someone to pick me, whether its an employer or the team captain of a kickball team. I’ve hoped and prayed that these people would deem me worthy and good enough to be chosen, convincing them that choosing me is a good idea.
But what’s so awesome about the God that I serve is that He’s already chosen me.
I was chosen to be the daughter of the one true king.
Chosen in my worst, most sinful moments.
Chosen when I didn’t deserve it.
The recipient of unending grace
And undeniable love.
I used to think that I chose to peruse a relationship with Christ. But I’ve come to realize that that’s not the at all. He perused me with patience and steadfast love.
John 15:16 says, “You didn’t choose me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name.”
As I pray for all the people that I’ll encounter on the world race, I can’t help but think about the all people that the Lord has chosen and who He is steadfastly, patiently perusing.
When I think (worry)about getting picked I think about the perfect God who chose me and say a prayer for those He is still perusing.
