Homemade coleslaw flew in every direction. Little Johnny had some on his shirt, Sarah's shoe was covered, the aisle seemed to have a new color to it. I sat mortified, looking around in shock. What was supposed to be a discrete mission, became an absolute disaster. I had my blue Winnie-the-Pooh lunch box steady on my lap, but the tupperware container inside was harder to open then I imagined. When the lid wouldn't budge, I had to take it out and use all the force of my second grade self to open it. Snap! The noise alerted the entire classroom that I had indeed spilled my lunch. "What is that?" "That looks so gross!" "Ugh! It smells and it’s all over my clothes!" When I was a young boy, I attended public school, and for the most part the environment was not disagreeable. I made friends, played games on the playground, and maybe even learned a bit in class. However, I was always aware that I was different. As I remember it, there was not a vegetarian within one-hundred miles of that school. Except one family, my family. So there I was sitting in class, mortified at bringing my strange food to school and tremendously humiliated when my strange food became my classmates clothing.
I was always self-conscious about bringing food to school, but especially after that day. Years past and I grew older, but bringing homemade food to school did not become easier. Fast forward seventeen some years, life was radically different. I graduated college, married and started a new job. My first day of work was great, and even though a moderate amount of nervousness was present, what caused the most anxiety that day was pulling out my lunch. Still? Yes, sitting there twenty-three years of age I realized some things do not really change. Well, perhaps it was maturity, or the kindness of my coworkers, but eventually I started to find peace, even when I took food out of my lunch box.
I like to think of my struggle with people seeing my lunch as a metaphor or lesson to something deeper. We all have a "lunch box" experience that has radically impacted the course of our lives. As far as traumatic events go, my second grade lunch experience is fairly miniscule. Yet fear implored me to eat cafe food, buy pre-made lunches, anything but bring my own homemade food. I wonder why I so easily let fear control my life, especially when fear is wanting to keep me from living fully. I realized at the heart of this issue was a fear of what people think of me, a fear of not being accepted. I find myself striving to be molded into a routine so as not to incite the negative perceptions of those around. It's as though I am hungry for acceptance and love. I spend my life painting the picture of me I think people will accept best, and I want to break free.
The Bible says God died for us because He loves us (even though inherently we really do hate him). The Bible says in-spite of our decrepit human nature, He has made us His children and recipients of eternal purpose. This means someone cares for us regardless of what we fear people will see in us. Yes we spend a lot of time thinking of what people might think of us, but in a sense God does too. God cares so deeply about what humanity thinks of Him, that he gave up his life to paint the perfect picture of love for us to see. God knows what it's like to want acceptance and love, He is on a life mission to receive our acceptance and love of and for Him. This made me see that in the struggle to find acceptance, to be free from the fear of what people think of me, there is hope. There is hope because God can understand a part of that struggle too. Every step of the way, it’s like he is saying, "You are my child, you are loved, keep moving forward, take another step, I am with you, do not be afraid. I know your struggle to find acceptance, because I long for your acceptance too. I know your struggle for love, because I long for your love too."
I will always struggle with this, fearing what people think of me, striving for acceptance, but knowing who I am allows me to struggle in the right direction. I am a child of God, and I know that He has accepted me. The other day my coworker asked me to bring dinner roast for a thanksgiving lunch. Was I okay? Sure a bit anxious perhaps. Did I bring it? Definitely. The other day God came to show us who he is. He was a bit anxious perhaps, but He definitely made it abundantly clear, He loves us, his children, regardless of what we fear people see in us.
