Tuesday, May 08, 2012


The definition means – (1) to refuse or accept, consider, use or submit to (2) to refuse to hear, receive, or admit: repel (3) to rebuff or without love from (4) to throw out esp. as useless or unsatisfactory (5) to subject to the immunological process of sloughing off (foreign tissue). 

That’s all well and good until it is experienced first-hand, especially when it comes to the heart, and even more when it comes from those who are supposed to love us.    

I’ve always heard that there are two constants, God’s love and a mother’s love; that those are two givens, and the two most taken for granted.  While I agree with the taking for granted part, I only half agree with the first part.  I do think God’s love is constant and never-changing, but I’ve experienced firsthand that a mother’s love doesn’t come unconditionally.  I’ve also heard it stated that a mother’s love is natural, an affection given at the time of birth.  Turn on your news and you’ll discover that isn’t true at all.  Just because a woman gives birth to a child, doesn’t mean she becomes naturally endowed with a mother’s love.  Actually, I don’t think love is natural at all.  Emotions are natural, but love – love is supernatural.  However, this article isn’t about love, but about rejection.  

I’ve observed countless of hurting people in this world, and one of the main common denominators to their pain is rejection – either from a parent, a child, a spouse, a sibling or a friend.  I’ve known my share of rejection, a bit from every category, yet I don’t allow that rejection to define me, or cause me to give up on my life.  I’ve found strength in the most uncommon of places – in the acceptance of me.    My value, my worth, my beauty, my confidence and my assurance doesn’t come from the acceptance or rejection of anyone else, but myself.  If it came from anyone else, I’d already be a failure, because I’ve received more rejection in my life than acceptance, especially from those who are supposed to ‘naturally’ love and accept me.  

This is the main reason why I love the Harry Potter series.  It’s not for the magic, the adventure or even the battle of good vs. evil, but simply because it’s an example of a boy who grew up rejected and unloved,  but had enough character and strength to choose to love in return, instead of allowing that rejection to turn him into a victim.  I found hope in Harry.  He truly was the ‘boy who lived’, because he LIVED – every moment and every day with a heart wide open; with a heart that had been battered, bruised and abandoned.  It was love that protected him in the end – not the love others had for him, but the love he had for others.  Harry rose above rejection, and perhaps we can too.

There was another who chose to love after being rejected and despised.  Yet, he gave his life for us all - Jesus. 

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

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