Do you see me? Even as I stand before you, are you really seeing me? My struggles, my strengths, my imperfections, my beautiful triumphs, everything that adds up to my wonderfully flawed and fabulous self?
Can you see into the depths of my eyes to see the pain that my smile covers? Do you see the circles under my eyes from a night spent in prayer, desperate to know and be known by God?
Did you know that your feet will fall asleep if you kneel for minutes without end in prayer? Did you know that you can still smile and greet people before Sacrament meeting, even when your heart is breaking?
I know you are only a human. Someone the Lord has temporarily called to serve in His kingdom at this time. But to me, at this desperately painful point in my life, you represent the Lord. You are His shepherd. I have raised my hand to the square, sustaining you in this calling of leadership—entrusting you with the care of my soul during this tumultuous time of trial.
Do you know me? Do you know the strength of faith it has taken me to come here, today, despite the snubs and exclusion I feel from other members of this congregation? Do you know the leap of faith I am taking by letting you see even a portion of my pain?
Please. Please, see me. See beyond my social status. See beyond my calling. See beyond whatever stereotypes and classifications you have previously placed upon me.
If you are my leader, see how I am struggling to feel known of the Lord. Be His hands while you are in this calling of leadership. Be His voice. Greet me with genuine warmth and caring in the hallways. Shake my hand and look me in the eye. Stop and take an extra moment to listen—the still small voice is so very, very quiet. The desperate cries are screaming in my mind, “SEE ME!” See me despite the smile. See my lonely desperation to be known by God.
I know you are desperate to fill an opening as a __(insert calling here)__ with someone who is caring and consistently attending church. But please, before you extend that calling, be sure it is the one the Lord wants for me. See me.
I have given the Lord my heart. I know this doctrine is true. I know how my heart thrills when I read the scriptures and when I listen to General Conference talks. I know this is where the Lord wants me to be. But coming to church each week has become a source of anxiety and pain.
For every member walking the hallways at church—see me! See how I have left behind family and friends to join with this faith. Yet, I feel loneliest surrounded by people who have covenanted to bear my burdens. I feel most excluded by those who I am supposed to spend my eternities with. Please, please see me.
Reach out the hand of fellowship. Smile with genuine gladness when you greet me. Be His hands when my burdens seem overwhelming and too heavy to bear alone.
I don’t want to be a project. I want a genuine friend. I want to be seen and valued as a child of God.
I am flawed. I am also fabulous. Will you see me? Flawed fabulousness in all of its imperfectness? Will you see me and accept me as I am?
Be those hands.
Be His hands.