Your presence matters
- Emily Reed
- Feb 5, 2019
- 6 min read
***I'm excited to welcome THE Emily Reed, my wonderful, kind friend and mentor, stellar mom of Hattie (and Dakota the Dog), wife of THE amazing distance running coach Benton Reed, pancake/breakfast-for-dinner-making genie, and running buddy as the site's first guest writer :) -Katie B
When I was a junior in high school, I took AP Lang with Mrs. Sylvia. She was also my English teacher when I was a sophomore, and I had loved her class. My junior year was no different. She was encouraging, bubbly, and fun. And when the crazy boys goofed off in class she would make them stand by the migrant mother poster (see picture below) so that the rest of us could learn without distractions. I don’t know why, but this one action earned my complete respect. Mrs. Sylvia didn’t mess around.
At some point during my junior year, we were learning how to respond to timed prompts that we would receive during the AP Lang test at the end of the year. For our first try, we were allowed to take the prompt home and use more time than usual to write a response. I don't recall the exact prompt, but I do remember working so hard on my writing! I sat down in my room on my uncomfortable wooden chair, armed with a pencil and lined notebook paper, my two trustiest tools throughout school.Hours went by that night, with multiple edits, and finally a typed out version. When I looked at the finished product I knew it was one of my greatest works. I immediately wondered what Mrs. Sylvia would think.
A few days after we turned in our work, Mrs. Sylvia printed out a few copies of our responses and handed them to everyone with the names marked out. The plan was to read them and grade them based on AP Lang grading scale. One of those responses was mine, out in the open for everyone to read (side note: I do recall Mrs. Sylvia asking if she could use mine as an example so it was totally cool for her to do this). While I watched every person in the room read my writing, I started to sweat (YES, PALMS AND PITS OKAY?). My heart rate skyrocketed and I held my breath as I waited for everyone’s reaction to my work. For those minutes, I regretted giving the teacher permission to let my fellow peers read my writing. I thought over and over again, “Why did I do this to myself? Why? Why? Why?”
[Pictured below: what I looked like vs. what I felt like]
But, after what felt like a cross between an anxiety attack and waiting in line at the DMV (I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE AND WHY IS THIS TAKING SO LONG), I found out that my vigorous sweating was all for naught. One by one, students gave positive feedback on my writing. They said it was good, and Mrs. Sylvia thought so too. My 11th grade English teacher gave me the greatest gift- she showed me that she believed in me. She could have pulled me aside and told me that
my writing was good, and talked about all the parts she liked. But she didn’t, she SHOWED me; and she even got my peers to show me too. I will never forget that day, because there in that classroom I felt like my presence mattered. (Shoutout to Mrs. Sylvia- you were one of the best teachers I’ve ever had- including teachers from college + grad school)
My dear friends, your presence matters. Whether or not you hear this truth from others. Whether or not you believe it yourself, please hear me: your presence matters. The One who created you thinks so too.
For a long time, I thought that my worth came from my accomplishments and my ability to make people happy (to be real-there are still times when I believe this lie). Yes, what you do is important, but even more important is WHO you belong to. You, my friend, are a child of God. A daughter or son of THE King. He created you and He knows you and He loves you. Your presence matters.
It can be difficult to believe at times because maybe you didn’t have an experience like I did. Maybe you grew up in a home where love was scarce (and you might even feel like THAT is an understatement). Or maybe you’re in a situation where you work hard every day and go unnoticed by everyone around you. I wish I could jump into your situation at this very moment and help you understand how valuable you are. I wish I could fix whatever problems are going on so that you would know the truth of God’s love for you. Unfortunately, I can’t.
But I can point you to the One who can.
I know, I know, I say it like it’s so easy: that you should simply trust that God loves you, that He believes you matter in this world, and that He made you the way you are ON PURPOSE. But nothing could be more true. I say this just as much to myself, because I forget who God is and what He says about me about as much as the Israelites did (see large portion of Old Testament). They witnessed God part the Red Sea (A LARGE BODY OF WATER YOU GUYS) for them to escape slavery, and still forgot. So yeah, you’re not alone.
But when I do forget, I intentionally seek God with my entire being and ask Him to remind me. I remember how He has come through for me in EVERY SEASON. I think about how He has provided for me and carried me through some of the most painful moments of my life. He has always been with me and has never once forgotten me. Isaiah 41:10 says, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” I choose to remember God*. I remember that He is good, that He is trustworthy, and that He loves me. My prayer is that you would remember too.
And so, to the stay at home mom or dad, who has just changed the 5th poopy diaper for the day (or 8th- BABIES POOP A LOT OKAY?), I see you and you matter. What you are doing is so important. I know it’s just you and your kiddos all day long and you feel like NO ONE KNOWS how hard it is sometimes. And don’t even get me started on the lack of sleep and what that does to the human mind. But God knows what’s going on, and guess what? He is with you, and He is doing a good work through you.
To Keith, the worker at Kroger, who has (multiple times) helped me carry my groceries out in the pouring rain while I attempt to carry Hattie (my 9 month old) to the car. I see you and you matter. What you do for me every week is the biggest blessing, and I can’t begin to imagine how you bless others too.
To the women at the YMCA who care for and love on Hattie while I take some time to care for myself. I see you and you matter. The way you have taken the time to learn what she likes and doesn’t like, and the way you have been patient with her as she screams as loud and wild as a mandrake (so sorry about that, and so glad it’s getting better). Your work is so important and has changed my life as a mom.
To my loyal husband, who comes home each day after work, drops his things and plays with our baby girl so I can have a break. I see you and you matter more to me than anyone else on this planet. The way you provide for our family and make Hattie and I feel safe is the biggest blessing. Thank you for loving us so well.
I could go on and on about all of the people who have made an impact on my life simply by doing what God has asked them to do. I could explain how they allowed God to work through them and help me better understand God’s love for me.
My prayer for you, my dear reader friend, is that you would know the unconditional and never ending love of God. That you would feel, deep down in your bones, the truth that your presence matters to Him. “May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.” (2 Corinthians 13:14) Love you guys. Grace and peace to you.
*I learned this phrase from Annie Downs’ book, Remember God. It’s amazing- get you a copy and read that thing!
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