The Sweet Song of Being Known

I think, as human beings, we all have this intrinsic desire to be needed and wanted and known and deeply loved. At our core, it's what drives us, what fuels our thoughts and passions. Wanting it or lacking it fuels our anger and sadness. Who we are, or who we become, or why we perform as we do is pushed by this burning need to be needed, to love and be loved, to exist for a purpose and to have a place.

And we have that because we were made for it. We were made for companionship, for community.

We were made to be known.

And as the old adage goes, we want what we don't have.

We were made to be known, made to be loved, yet in an imperfect world, far too often we lack this thing that gives us life and hope and joy.

That's me again and again. Desperately wanting to be truly known, yet also terrified of really being seen. We're afraid of our true selves being revealed, because what if the real self isn't acceptable? I'm afraid of my true self being seen. But at the same time, I know I am made for vulnerability,  I know that as a human being I am made to love and be loved.

But living in this imperfect, broken world, sometimes the risks seem too high. There should be no heartbreak, no pain, no rejection, no suffering. But there is. And sometimes that is so hard to handle, so hard to grasp and acknowledge and then move forward from.

But living in some state of fear, locked away and "safe" behind closed walls and barred doors is no way to live.

Here's what C. S. Lewis (aka best author ever) has to say on the matter:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

Yes. To love is to be vulnerable. And in being vulnerable we can be known. And in being known and loved in a place of vulnerability and truth and realness is to be fulfilled because we were made for that.

But how do we get to a place of shedding the fear and unlocking the casket and letting our hearts and lives live in a place where they could be hurt and they could be broken? How do we conquer this petrifying fear of baring it all and risking it being broken so it can be redeemed?

I read another quote this week that legitimately brought tears to my eyes with the simple, complicated, stark truth and beauty of it.

"When we first realize that God did not create us and does not need us for anything, we could conclude that our lives have no importance at all. But scripture tells us that we were created to glorify God, indicating that we are important to God himself." (Wayne Grudem)

It sounds harsh at first. I'm not needed?

I'm not needed. And that's actually the most beautiful thing, because despite not being needed, I am wanted. I am wanted and I am loved and I am known, and that is far better.

I love to help people. I love to serve and give gifts and say nice things. It's definitely a way I love on people. And generally that's a good thing, but there can be times where my desire to serve people has another purpose.

See I'm afraid of not being good enough, of not being wanted if I'm not needed. So I make myself useful, helpful, necessary...invaluable. That's the goal. Be invaluable. So they can't function without me. Because then if they need me to survive then I'll be wanted, and somehow I've twisted that in my mind to mean I'll be loved. They need me, so they'll keep me around and they need me so they'll want me.

But that's not healthy, that's not truly loving on either end of the spectrum, and that mindset has inadvertently and unintentionally caused me to hurt both myself and other people.

And so this understanding, this beautiful revelation, that I am not needed, but I am wanted is the sweetest music to my frightened ears.

I am important to the God of the universe. Not for anything I have done or am doing or will do. Not because of talents I possess or ways I can serve. Just because He wants me. Just because He loves me, just because He knows me.

That's an amazing amount of grace. That I have great importance and value to the God of the universe. The great, powerful, loving, wrathful, sovereign, omnipotent, merciful, just, strong, gracious, beautiful King. The Great I AM. The Lord of Lords who is majestic and unimaginable.

He wants me. Me.

A small, broken, me.

It's beautiful, and it's deeply humbling.

It's easier to think I could do something that would deserve the love. Because that's the sort of world we live in. A get and give, a earn and barter and trade. A be good enough and you'll get good things, work hard enough and you'll succeed. That makes sense. We can wrap our minds around that.

But knowing that I have absolutely nothing that God needs, that I can offer Him nothing He does not already have, that He loves me without me doing anything, that is far more amazing and far more life changing.

That sort of love makes me want to sing, to dance, to write, and to live. To live a life that deserves that sort of love, not because I have to in order to keep the love or to earn it or pay Him back for it, but because I want to live a life that loves Him back.

We all want to be loved. That's why movies and books search for it, that's why we listen to the songs and ooh and aah at love stories. We shape our lives around that innate desire to be known and loved. And our hearts are so often broken because that need cannot be filled by anything or anyone else but God.

And when we learn of the greatest love of all, and accept that we are truly known, then our hearts can freely sing as we dance with the One who made us.