Pick Me! Pick Me!

We've all been there, probably on multiple occasions.  We're back in elementary school and it's recess time.   The teacher says we're going to play a game and we need to choose up sides.  So the teacher picks two captains.  "OK, you two pick your teams, one person at a time."  And the agony begins.  Hearts start racing.  Some with excitement.  Some with panic.  Some with sheer dread.

"Pick me!  Pick me!"  comes the refrain from the eager kids.  With their hands raised high, they exude self-assurance and confidence.  They refuse to be left out.  Their animated, relentless chants demand notice -- and so, sometimes out of sheer annoyance, they are picked early.

Then there's the "I'm your friend so you'd better pick me"group.  This group doesn't really have to say anything.  The silent code is powerful enough between the chosen leader and his/her friend group that the leader simply must choose his/her friends.  That, or face the dire consequences later.

And then, depending upon the selected game, there's the gifted/talented/"ringer" kids.  These are the ones any leader would be absolutely foolish not to choose.  Friend or not, if you want to win, you gotta pick them.


Finally, there's the "left overs," the kids who already feel like outcasts but now they are on display for all to see.  Most of the time they are grateful just to be ignored.  But now they can't even take refuge in their anonymity.

So what brought me back to those days on the playground?  Why do I have such a vivid memory of my young peers, huddling together, hoping someone would pick them for their team? 

As I'm working on finishing my grades,  I'm looking over my class rosters.  The semester is over, and I am so very thankful that I got to know so many students.  But it saddens me that many of the names are much less familiar to me.  I saw their faces, but I never really got to see their hearts.  I read their papers and graded their tests, but I never had the privilege to hear all their stories.  And I truly wanted to hear their stories.


I just hope they know how important they are.  Whether they sat in the back or the front.  Whether they tried to hide in the corner or sat prominently in front by the podium.  Whether they eagerly answered every question or lived in fear that they would be called upon, I hope they never felt excluded.

There are no outcasts in the Kingdom of God.  Jesus made it very clear that those who wish to be great in His Kingdom must actually be the most humble.  Leaders must be servants.  Those who take up the rear will ultimately be at the front.  Love for all.  Concern for all.   Attention for all.  That's the Way of Jesus. 

Jesus sees the unseen -- those who are hiding in the shadows, hoping no one will notice them, and yet secretly praying that someone WILL.  As followers of Jesus, we need to pray for eyes to see -- ears to hear -- hearts to love -- not only the ones who are right in front of us, but especially the ones who often go unnoticed.  The "left overs."  The Kingdom of God belongs to them.