Loving yourself (or the inability to do so) seems like something we’ve invented recently. I’m fairly confident that previous generations didn’t worry about loving themselves. They didn’t have the free time for crippling bouts of existential dread that their descendants would enjoy—they were too busy trying not to die of cholera.
The truth is that whether previous generations worried about loving themselves or not, there is a deep sense in our current culture that we are missing some sense of being beloved. Of belonging. Of being missed. Of being accepted. Of being wanted.
We cling to social media, substituting likes and retweets in the place of honest connection that leads to feelings of belonging and worth. No wonder we feel disconnected from ourselves and others. In baptism, we are reborn children of God. God speaks out over the chaos and tumult of life to announce to the universe, “This is my child, my beloved. With her I am well-pleased!”
Wow. God loves me. Not even Instagram me, but the real me.
This message is an excerpt from “That me—God’s beloved” by Kristen Kuempel in the February 2020 issue of Café. Today is Tuesday of Holy Week.