Thursday, November 7, 2013

Who Knows You?

It has been said that the key to new employment is not what you know, but WHO you know. That is a very valid argument that holds true in many life situations.

But in the most important relationship in a human's life, the key question is not who you know, but "Who knows you?"

Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you." (Matthew 7:21-23)

We all have a deep desire to be known. It is a God given desire. It is a valid desire. We can seek to fill that desire with the attention of people, or we can seek to be known by God.

We can seek the reward of human recognition. We can seek to be known by people represented in the measurable stats of FB friends and followers. Blog readers and followers. Pinterest followers. Google+ circles. Twitter followers.

It thrilled me at Allume when people said that they have read my blog or that they recognized my hair or my outfits. I wasn't completely unknown. It was a boost for my pride.

People know me. People follow me. I have name recognition.

When I want attention, that is the reward I are going to get. I will be thrilled when people recognize me and my blog. I will be excited when my numbers grow. But, is that really how I want to measure my success? Is that truly what I desire or what I want to desire?

He gave them their request, but sent leanness to their souls. (Psalm 106:15)

Really, who am I writing for? Who's will am I seeking to follow? Honestly, sometimes the answers to those two questions are me and mine.

But, at my heart, what I am aiming for is an audience of ONE. And it isn't me. It's God. My Creator. My Redeemer. My Master and Lord. My Rock. My Comforter. My Shield. My Life. My Friend.

I don't want the numbers, the recognition, at the cost of my relationship with God. I don't want to settle for leanness in my soul. I want to glorify God with each key stroke. I want lives to be changed because of my words-even if it is just my life.

I want God to be pleased with me. I want God to say, "I know you. Well done, good and faithful servant."

The most important things that we do are often the ones that only God sees. Would I still write if only God saw my words?


Would you?