Visualize
Outcast: Rejected, cast out by society, thrown aside, discarded.”[1]
“And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn”—Luke 2:7
“He was rejected by mankind”—Isaiah 53:3
Read
When our fourth child and only girl was born, what seemed to be a normal, drug-free birthing process took a turn for the worst as I pulled her up onto my belly and held her in my arms for the first time. The doctor couldn’t stop me from bleeding, I couldn’t breathe from lack of blood oxygen, and a few liters of blood later, the nurses wheeled me back for emergency surgery. I woke up in a drug-induced haze to a massive set of ugly silver staples across my lower belly and my husband cradling our newborn girl in the chair next to my bed.
After my previous pregnancies, I bounced back in a matter of days, so I cried when I hobble-walked around the block for the first time and struggled with debilitating nerve pain down my right arm. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage a colicky newborn while also homeschooling a 3rd grader, first grader, and a preschooler. I knew I needed help, so I found what I thought was a perfect solution—a three-day-a-week homeschool enrichment program at a nearby Christian school. I signed up our third grader, M, thinking he would learn a thing or two and we would all benefit from the break. The first few weeks seemed successful—one less kid at home during the day felt good and though M tolerated his classes, he conquered the monkey bars at recess with an intensity that ripped all the skin off his palms.
One afternoon a homeschool mom whose son was also in the enrichment program left me a voicemail asking if M would like to be her son’s partner for an upcoming school project, “I’d be happy to have them study over at our place. Just give me a call when you can.” Somewhere between feedings and chasing littles, I called her back, but when I did, her icy, clipped tone took me by surprise: “I’m not sure my son needs your son anymore. We live at 83rd and Nall (wealthy, prestigious neighborhood) and I just happened to look up where you live . . . Um. . . do you actually live in Southdale on Reeder Street? Oh, you do? Well, my son found another partner, so we won’t be needing yours.”
Stunned to silence, I hung up.
My son, only seven years old, discarded because of his zip code—and by a Christian.
I ranted to my husband later that night, “That woman knows nothing about us, our story, who we are! She reduced our son’s worth to zero because of where he lives!” Most of us have stories like this one—overlooked, uninvited, cast aside by people who should have valued us as fellow humans made in God’s image, but did not. And when the door-slam of rejection comes from a fellow Christian, you feel the added ache of familial betrayal.
Even Jesus, the very son of God, was deemed too lowly, too unworthy to be given a guest room on the top floor of a house the night he was born. Jesus ended up in a basement barn-cave, surrounded by smelly, neighing, crowing, braying, sh*%-dropping animals. There were no nurses to clean up the after-birth, the blood or placenta, no scrubs or epidurals, no doctor or midwife. Just Joseph, Mary and their miracle baby. Mary’s heart rejoiced as she focused not on her circumstance as an outcast or the fact that she laid her son in an animal trough, but that the God of the universe saw her, called her and honored her as his own.
Though others cast her out, Mary belonged to the one who called her by name. “Mary. . . You are a favored woman. The Lord is with you. *You are chosen from among many women.”[2] Comforted by her identity as God’s chosen one, Mary raised her voice to praise “My Savior for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed. For he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name.”[3]
Ponder
In what ways have you been cast out or rejected and how does Jesus want to take you in?
Pray
Inhale: Though others cast me out,
Exhale: You will take me in.
*You can find other posts in this advent series here.
[1] Merriam-Webster.com
[2] Luke 1: 28, NLT. Biblegateway.com
[3] Luke 1: 47-48. ESV. Biblegateway.com
Pursued 