Knownness

Being known meant that not only were there those who knew my name and relevant census information, but they also knew my story, my struggles, my strengths, and my snares. It meant having that friend in prayer group who wouldn’t let me get away with looking discouraged on a dark day of doubting without calling me out from across the table, “something’s up with you; spill it.” It meant having another sweet friend and mentor check in with me every few weeks and ask me how my now dust-collecting manuscript was coming along. “I just know God’s going to use it,” she’d say with such calm confidence. It meant having a pastor who specifically took me aside a few weeks before we left to hand me a book reenforcing our identity in Christ that he hoped would be an encouragement for me because he knew of my rejection triggers and how exposed they might be in a move such as ours.