You are seen, no matter where you are. I feel the need to go ahead and tell you that right off the bat. I don’t know about you, but these last few weeks have felt long. The days blended together, and I’ve felt so tired in some moments that I’ve had to call on God to just get through the afternoons. The Covid regulations and the absence of school breaks and the Zoom marathons are exhausting. This last stretch of the year is not for the faint of heart. Although, none of life really is, either. 

If you are feeling worn down, fatigued, or like your hard work and relentless pursuit to even make it through the day without curling up in a ball on your bedroom floor have gone unseen, I need you to know that that’s a lie. Your work matters. Your heart matters. You matter. If you’re feeling a few steps behind the people around you, I have some good news for you today, sister. 

Not only does Jesus see you, but He is right there beside you in your work. He tended to hang out with the people who felt this way while he was on earth. He had a different way of doing things, and that changes everything for us today.  

Bob Goff calls this His “backward economy.” Over and over again, in every Gospel (AKA importance status: elevated), Jesus shares that the first will be last and the last will be first (Matthew 20:16) and whoever loses his life will keep it (Luke 17:33). Hm. Storytime.

Cycling is my favorite workout. No shin splints, no dealing with the Texas heat, and no judgment when I sit down in the middle of class. Now that’s my kind of fitness endeavor. 

At my favorite cycling studio, the instructors project everyone’s ride statistics on monitors in front of the class. Usually, they turn this feature off until the end of the ride so you have the last few minutes to boost your rankings before heading home. Of course, you can opt-out of being on the board, but what’s the fun in that?!

Let’s get one thing straight: I am no cycling prodigy. Not even close. But there was a month where I got really into it, though, and started to get the hang of the rides. A little arm pushup here, a little four corners and isolation there (fellow cyclers, I am speaking your language). Slowly but surely my class rankings started rising. There was one particular Tuesday evening I was just totally rocking it, to be honest. I was singing along, cheering when the instructor called my name and feeling absolutely on top of the world. Endorphins, man. 

I usually didn’t pay much attention to the numerical stats. I was only concerned with putting forth my best efforts. But on this specific ride, I was eager to see the stats. When the instructor flashed the leaderboard, my eyes darted to the top of the board and then continued to go down… down… down… until I found my name at none other than the very last spot.

“Oh my gosh!” I thought. I had just read Matthew 20:16. “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” YES! I walked out of that studio as if I had just been crowned Miss America. “You don’t see it, all you first-place kind of people, and you may not know it, but I actually ended up first today.” 

Now, I’m not sure that’s how it works—the workout analogy was probably not what Jesus was talking about when He said the first would be last and the last would be first.  However, I knew in a different kind of way that even though I was the absolute slowest and least impressive cycler in that class, Jesus saw me. He was proud of me for getting on the bike in the first place and for taking care of my body. Sometimes it takes immense strength to simply get on the bike and start running the race. 

And maybe it’s not a run. Maybe it feels more like a series of lethargic, disjointed, discombobulated steps forward. This is okay. This can even be best—2 Corinthians 12:9 encourages us that His power is made perfect in our weakness. 

When you feel weakest, He is carrying you every step of the way. His strength is magnified in those moments. Every uncertainty, every hard conversation, every resistant change—we need only to submit that to Him, and He takes care of the rest. He sees you fighting to take one step forward when it’d be a whole lot easier to fall ten steps backward.

Jesus hangs out with the people in the back. He—the King of Kings, the Creator of the universe—got on his knees and washed His disciples’ feet. Talk about the first going last and THE greatest humbling Himself. Truly the greatest example of all time.

Maybe you’re tired and fighting to walk through each week well. Or maybe things have been going well and your spirit is up. Maybe these past few weeks have left you feeling on top of the world. That’s something worth celebrating. But I’ve found that when that’s the case, I have to ask myself: have I slowly become so focused on celebrating what *I* have accomplished that suddenly I look around and notice I’m not leading anyone towards Jesus anymore, but rather towards myself? It’s not hard to do, and it only takes half of a second from looking up to Heaven to get distracted on where we’re headed and where we’re leading people. I often need to be reminded of this—reminded that the good moments are worth celebrating, but they’re not about me. And the more I make them about me, the more I miss the point, and the less His power is perfected and glorified through me.

When we need a slice of humble pie, John 13 is a great place to dig in. It won’t disappoint or fail to oh-so kindly remind us of our purpose and our place. It baffles me that Jesus modeled humility so perfectly, and as He calls us to get on our knees and wash the feet of those around us, He’s doing the same for us. What! He is just that good. 

If you are feeling worn down, restless, forgotten, battered, exhausted, dismissed, rejected… I am praying that you never, ever forget the power of these three words: 

“It is finished.” John 19:30. 

I’m going to say it again: It is finished. All your fatigue. All your heartache. All your worries. All your sin. All your shame. It. Is. Finished. It’s finished!! Let that sink in for a minute. He’s taken care of it all.

Maybe setting everything down at His feet looks a little more like walking to the end of the line than it does trying to prove that we’re good enough. Maybe it’s asking other people intentional questions more than we’re trying to boast our accomplishments or opinions. Maybe it’s putting our defensive comments aside and letting God defend our hearts. Quiet humility. It’s what Jesus did, and I don’t know about you, but I want nothing more than to be more like Him. 

If that’s something your heart is searching for, too, we can walk the back together. Step by step, day by day, laying down our pride as we dress ourselves in layers of humility. It’s what He does and where He’ll be, and there’s nothing more humble or glorifying than honoring the King.