Overwhelm: The Glorious Weight of Being Chosen (Especially at Christmas)
If you know me, you’ve probably seen me and my violin on a stage. And while I don’t particularly enjoy the attention, the stage is always there, and I am gradually accepting my place on it.
My first on stage-appearance occurred around four or five. Ladies and gentlemen, meet The Virgin Mary. (I was one of a dozen or so girls portraying her in a Christmas choir). In the tiny white church in Gig Harbor, Washington, I costumed up in an oversized tunic and a piece of fabric bobby-pinned to my head. Tada!
I don’t recall what we were singing, but as our children’s choir began, so did the great devolvement of my grand debut. The bobby pins failed. In front of the whole world, my head covering slipped off, and that, my friends, was it. Vanity rising, I tore off the stage to my mother. I could not go on without my head shawl in place. We know this! Mary’s head must be head covered! Alas, my career as a stage performer was temporarily stalled. If only I knew how many future stage calamities lay ahead, I would have taken that shawl, whipped it over my shoulders, and tied it in a bodacious cape. As Little Edie (Edith Bouvier Beale) explains in Grey Gardens, a cape can be part of a day’s best costume.
Some years after my debut, I was on another stage as a pre-teen beauty pageant contestant. I did not place. I have gone on to lose in countless other arenas: writing contests, job interviews, friendships…Throughout life, I have routinely not been chosen.
What does it mean when we aren’t picked? Being rejected by a crush or a contest judge or a community of people-that hurts in a way that makes our bones ache. But being chosen…Being chosen is an entirely different experience. It feels so good. So affirming. Sometimes…You see, sometimes, being chosen hurts. In the Hunger Games, for example, the goal is to not be chosen for the death competition. There are times when we are chosen as targets of bullying. In jobs, we can be the scapegoat, or the the sacrificial lamb. Being chosen is complicated.
A miracle moment for me - snow on the beach in Yachats, OR
During the month of December, many of us will give thanks for a young lady named Mary, the legitimate virgin who was chosen to deliver the Messiah. Supernaturally, she conceived Jesus, who went on to live and die and resurrect on behalf of mankind.
So, when Mary is visited by the angel, does she don her cape or use extra bobby pins to keep that head shawl in place? Here’s her response to this crazy miracle: My soul magnifies the Lord. My spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior, for he has looked at the humble state of his servant. For behold, from now on, all generations will call me blessed.
Faith. This what Mary chooses. She risks sounding like a liar when she tells her absurd pregnancy story. She chooses to accept God’s strange gift. What a beautiful, terrifying burden.
Being chosen and being rejected weigh heavy on humanity. As I consider both sides of the coin this season, I long for an open heart. If I believe I am truly loved, I am open to both rejection and attention, even if I’m not wearing a cape. After all, being cloaked in love is one outfit that never wears out, especially at Christmas.
Chasing Ebenezer (Photo Courtesy of Callie Bauer)
-Short Film Recommendation: The Chosen Christmas Presentation