Left Out

It is easy to get miffed when you are left on the sidelines.  Sometimes it is intentional.  I close my eyes and I am being chosen next to last for the kickball team in the third grade.  I remember the sick anticipation, painful dawn, and devastating reality.  Even though I was not last, it was as if I was plagued by a crippling stigma and everyone knew it.  On other occasions it is inadvertent.  There have been several recent presentations where I was inadvertently left off the invitation list.  I don’t think it was intentional, yet I found myself back in the third grade.
 
The experience has left me asking two questions.  First, am I excluding individuals where I could just as easily have been inclusive?  Am I judging when I could be giving the individual the benefit of the doubt?  Are there times where I presume superiority because of the externals in lieu of an inclusive reflection of truth? 
 
At the core of the first questions is a simple reflection of the god or God I am pursuing.  This gives birth to the second question, am I willing to deal with the truth?  The second question lingers on.  Who or what is my god/God?  Am I so intent on protecting the god of self that I refuse to let Divinity touch my soul?  The Spirit’s question lurking around my heart is direct and to the point; “Who talked you into the pursuit of this nonsense, leaving me [God] high and dry, forgetting you ever knew me?  Because I don't yell and make a scene do you think I don't exist?”  (Isaiah 57.11)
 
In the morning dawn it all seems so easy.  I can and will reach out to those around me, including them in the gifts God so freely gives.  Yet as the dawn matures my heart hardens.  Yet the hardness need not remain.  God’s gift to you and I includes an unending patience and love.  The invitation is open to all.  Compassion knows no boundaries.  What comes next follows on from our choice.