To Be Known

One of the cool things about moving to a new place, is you get to meet so many new people. It's awesome to get to know people and hear their stories. And, it's fun to tell your story. There are many ways and angles in which to tell your story, too, depending on your audience, right? In our case, we may talk more about church or homeschooling, or we may talk about Spouse's job and all the Lord has done with that. We may include family background, our marriage stuff, ministries we've been a part of and get to hear the same from others. It's fun and exciting to find the common thread(s) between believers.

On the flip side, one of the less than cool things about moving to a new place, is you meet so many new people. You are constantly having to get to know new people and learn their stories. It's like we are all giving our resumes over and over. It may be your church ministry resume (student, college ministry), homeschool resume (The standard, "I loved our school, but we knew this was what the Lord wanted for our family."), the family resume (we love having people in our home, yadda yadda). In some ways, it feels like we have been doing this over and over for the past year and a half. 

It is what it is. It's part of moving. We knew it.
The Super Sanguine here welcomed it.

Until I was over it. After a while, I got tired of my own stories. Those that know me IRL just chuckled. No. I rarely tire of telling stories. I just mean I am tired of telling the same stories! 

I just want to be known. I don't mean in a Fifteen Minutes of Fame kind of way. I don't mean any kind of fame. I'm talking have my people who know what I'm about. You know, the hometown kind of known.
*Singing* Sometimes you wanna go, where everybody knows your name...*

{Image Credit: Cheers}

And, then. I am known more than that. The number of hairs on my head is known. The number of hairs  that are in the drain for my Spouse to clean out is known. The number of pounds I have gained is known. The number of minutes that number takes up in my head on any given day is known, too. The number of cells in my body is known, including the rogue ones. The work that I was sent here to do is known by the One who sent me here to do it.
All of it. Known to a known God.

You have searched me, Lord,

   and you know me.

² 

You know when I sit and when I rise;

    you perceive my thoughts from afar.

³ 

You discern my going out and my lying down;

    you are familiar with all my ways.

⁴ 

Before a word is on my tongue

    you, Lord, know it completely.

⁵ 

You hem me in behind and before,

    and you lay your hand upon me.

⁶ 

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

    too lofty for me to attain.

Psalm 139:1-6

The girls and I have been memorizing Psalm 139 this year. We are way behind schedule, but I can't tell you how many times I've come back to it. There is so much goodness in this Psalm, but let's go with verse 1, "...you know me...my thoughts...my going out...a word on my tongue...". 

The God who created you knows you. He knows me.

That same God has given me a precious few who know me, too. They get me. I don't take for granted when new people come into my crazy and walk along side me in it. There are a few in particular here in H that have been total rockstars in how they have loved and spoken truth over me.

Tonight, at a women's Bible Study, I met someone new. We had each been told we needed to meet. So cute, right?! This sweet homeschooling family just moved here from Florida. My other friend, Christa, the new friend and I were all chatting about being the new girls at one time or another and giving our resumes and talking Jesus. 

You know the scene: three women in a parking lot after Bible Study. 

I was talking some sort of shenanigans when my Jesus who knows me gave me the sweetest of gift: Christa interjects in my story and explains to our knew friend, very cheeky, "Melissa has a hard time expressing herself..."

GAH!

Boom. Known.

I need to quit looking to be known and act like one who is known.