Have you ever noticed how everyone has certain themes in books and movies and Bible verses and such things that speak to them especially strongly? Because they do.
For me, one of those themes is about how everyone is special and important. And not in the shallow way that society talks about. But when you take time to get to know people, they have interesting idiosyncrasies and passions and people they love and things that make them hurt inside and songs that they feel were written just for them and possibly a favorite fruit and an opinion on dark chocolate and maybe some old injury they still deal with every day and pet peeves and certain themes that speak to them especially strongly… People are fascinating.
I think this is part of how God loves everybody. He gets to see all these things, even when we don’t.
Anyway, I recently picked up a book in the children’s section of the library called Confessions of an Imaginary Friend by Michelle Cuevas. I saw the title and knew I had to read it. I’m glad I did, if only for the couple paragraphs that sum up this theme well. I’ve wanted to write a blog post about it since I read the book, but I’m not sure I have anything else to add to this, so here it is:
To tell the truth, I was beginning to think you would be in awe of anyone if you saw the parts of them that no one else gets to see. If you could watch them making up little songs, and doing funny faces in the mirror; if you saw them high-fiving a leaf on a tree, or stopping to watch a green inchworm hanging midair from an invisible thread, or just being really different and lonely and crying sometimes at night. Seeing them, the real them, you couldn’t help but think that anyone and everyone is amazing.
I guess everyone, I realized, would include me.
But what was special about me? I wondered. I guess you can’t always know what those things are about yourself. Maybe because you’re too close to see it, like a flower that looks down and thinks it’s just a stem. I guess the important thing is to trust that you are. You’re special. And the people close to you see it in more ways than you could ever, ever know.