Hope For The Rejected Mom

This week’s sermon in our church was all about how Jesus gives hope to the rejected. Based on the story in Luke chapter seven, where a woman of less-than-perfect-reputation comes into a pharisee’s home and begins to weep– washing the feet of Jesus with her tears and wiping them with her hair. She then anoints his feet with precious fragrant perfume from an alabaster vial.

As those in “leadership” around her begin to cast judgement on the lady (AND judge Jesus– after all, doesn’t he know what kind of woman this is?) Jesus begins to give a parable, pointing out that the ones judging her are actually just proving their own self-righteousness and lack of love and compassion.

Jesus gives hope to the rejected. It’s a simple truth and He demonstrates it over and over in the Word as He consistently helps the outcast and down trodden while continuously scathing the leadership for their lack of love and mercy.

I’ve had more than my fair share of rejection as a wife and mother. This week’s sermon caused me to pause and reflect on just a few of the ways I’ve been judged or rejected over the last 23 years.

[bctt tweet=”I’ve had more than my fair share of rejection as a wife and mother. “]

I’ve been rejected for getting married too young, starting a family so young, and for being pregnant in (a Christian) college.

For breastfeeding, for bottle-feeding, for only having girls, for having so many kids. I’ve been ridiculed for being wealthy, and I’ve endured whispers and rumors for not being wealthy enough when we lost darn near everything.

I’ve been rejected for sending my kids to school and later suffered a lot more rejection and questioning for homeschooling.

I’ve been judged and rejected in some circles for being a Christian…And in other circles for not being Christian enough. After all, how can I allow my daughters to compete in swimsuit sports or show their shoulders in a dress. If we were REAL Christians I would be far more modest in our clothing.

I’ve been rejected for adopting children because we could have children of our own. I’ve been rejected and whispered about for adopting a child of a different color.

I’ve been rejected for being fat, for being skinny, for being too pretty, and for not being pretty enough.

I’ve been judged and rejected for doing sports on Sundays, and for not doing sports on Sundays.

I’ve felt the sting of rejection for changing churches, even though it was nothing personal and completely best for my family. For being a woman who speaks her mind. For not always having the cleanest mouth…especially when watching a football game.

Some of these may seem petty to you and some of them I bet you can relate to. Some of them I am sure you have endured as well. The sting of rejection always hurts, but the only sure way to stem the pain is to remember who we are in Christ…perfectly righteous and beautiful, in right standing with God regardless of how other men or women may judge and/or reject us. We are never too fat or too poor or too dumb or too “unChristian” enough to lose His love and good favor– and truthfully, His love and favor are the only unwavering things we can count on in this life anyhow. As I reviewed the multitudes of times I’ve suffered rejection in writing this post, I remembered that the best way to overcome that sting is to dig a little into the Word, press into Him in prayer, and pray blessing over those who have hurt us. It instantly helps to resolve bitterness and encourages us in our faith.

[bctt tweet=”Rejection always hurts, but the only way to stem the pain is to remember who we are in Christ.”]

The woman who was enduring such harsh judgement from the religious leaders of the day only received love and mercy from her Savior. He didn’t judge her for her past, He only gave her compassion and she was the only person in that room to walk out blessed and in peace. May the Lord of peace reign in your heart today as you realize HE will never reject or judge you.

Here is the sermon I referenced above:

Stories of Hope W2 10.11.2015 from Family Church on Vimeo.