By Jessica Lindsey
After my divorce, a spirit of rejection gripped me hard. I did not feel lovable and began building walls to protect myself from deeper hurt. I began avoiding new relationships, minimizing the time I spent with people I already knew. Relationships meant risking I could be further rejected at some point – I could not swallow one more ounce of it.
The divorce was a final devastating blow that shattered me, but my foundation was already cracked. I had a lack of trust in people from early on, and often felt rejected and insecure in my formative years, unsure whether my parents loved me or not. Born the middle child, a brunette between two buttery blonds, I was neither the protected youngest nor the preferred eldest, often not invited to play with my siblings. In school, I was the last picked for sports events, belittled by classmates, and never taken out on a date.
Was any of this rejection my fault? Some of it, surely. But I believe the enemy begins to strategize against us from our birth, planting seeds of rejection, framing us as unlovable. He continues his assaults until we believe ourselves to be unlovable.
I felt rejected by my husband before we even married, with more layers of hurt piling on throughout that relationship. Even though I was the one who did the leaving, the sense that my rejection was final landed with the divorce papers. Worse still, I perceived myself as rejected by the church and society because of divorce stigma and chronic singledom. It was like being among the ancient lepers of Israel, exiled by the community, waiting for someone to have mercy. The prospect of ever becoming loved by a regular man at any point in the future seemed impossible. I doubted at times that God could even love me, as ruined as I was.
A few years earlier, my mother passed away from a drug-overdose. When she died this way, I took it personally. I felt as though I was not enough of a reason for her to try harder or stay longer. More rejection.
I remember one Sunday sitting with my four sons at the back of the church. I was one of less than a handful of women in the congregation there with children and no husband. Pastor was preaching a message of God’s love, acceptance and redemption. I felt wretched, carrying the heavy weight of my divorce, seeing myself with a large, red “D” inscribed on my forehead. Pastor said something to the effect of: “You’re not the cans in the discount bin at the grocery store. You’re not damaged goods to God.” I burst into tears, wailing out loud in front of everybody. He hit the nail on the head. “Damaged goods” was exactly how I saw myself. I believe Satan purposely orchestrated destructive events in my life to make me feel this way, but God wasn’t leaving me there.
The enemy came close to achieving his goal of convincing me I was just like him – a totally unredeemable reject. Once a high-order angel, Satan is now the greatest loser of the universe, a legacy permanently etched in eternity. When we were born, we were born into a fallen Earth, beginning our lives as default sinners (Psalm 51:5, Romans 5:12). From there, the war began in heaven over our souls, with the power of Christ hoping to save and the power of Satan hoping to destroy. Satan, the counterfeit con artist, wants to manipulate us into conforming to his dark image, while Christ is hoping to mould us into His image of light.
“For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves,” (Colossians 1:13, NIV)
The devil wants us to become rejects like him, while God wants us to walk in the righteous reconciliation Jesus provided at the cross. I believe Satan orchestrates as many events in our lives as he can to cause us rejection, while God is steadily working to bring us to a place of love and permanent acceptance.
Despite how hard our enemy tries to convince us, the redeemed of God are no longer like him (Ephesians 1:7). As long as we’re living, we have an opportunity to improve our position. We can walk in our identity of God’s adoption (Ephesians 1:5), while Satan will always be fatherless. Though we may get momentarily caught in the devil’s rejection snare, those who persevere with God are destined for healing.
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” (Psalm 147:3, NIV)
At my worst, the rejection wound was so deep I even began rejecting myself and slapping God’s loving hand away. Through my restoration process, I’ve come to believe my Heavenly Father truly loves me. I have forgiven my ex-spouse and my mother for their wrongs and have moved on to having a life I consider worth living, fulfilling the promise laid out in John 10:10 (NIV):
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”
After working with God on my problems, I now believe that rejection is an event that has happened to me and is not the essence of who I am. Weak-willed people were used along the way by my enemy to help him attempt to destroy me. Unfortunately for him, light defeats darkness. Hallelujah!
Jessica Lindsey is a Christian author and mother living in Saskatchewan, Canada and is founder of RenewingOurMinds.org.
