One day, my little family and I walked into our local restaurant for dinner. Some friends from church own the restaurant and our town literally has about 600 people, so we knew several people there. My husband got stopped at one table, while I went over to another and started chatting with some church members there. As I was talking to the mom, their adorable little 4-year-old girl tilted her head, squinted her warm brown eyes at me and said, "I tink you go to my chuhch (church)." I'm her pastor's wife, she'd seen me there every Sunday and Wednesday (and sometimes in between) for a year or two at that point. Before we had the chance to assure her that yes, she did know me, my husband finished his conversation and walked over to the table, draping his arm across my shoulders.
When this little sweetie saw my husband, her eyes got as big as saucers and the biggest smile lit up her face as she exclaimed, "PASTUH! PASTUH!" (toddler speak for "pastor! pastor!") and she jumped up and gave him the cutest hug he'd probably had all day.
It seems funny now, as it did then. But I'd grown pretty used to finding my identity in being Pastor's wife...or Col's mom...and a couple of other titles I wore.
I remember times when I'd be at our denominational meetings with fellow ministry families, and other pastor's wives would walk right by me without speaking or making eye contact, but when my husband stood next to me and they could recognize me as being his wife, and then they'd speak.
Now, I knew the main reason is because they really didn't recognize me very well without my husband - I worked full time outside the home, and so I was not able to get to very many minister's meetings. So it does make sense that they didn't know me. But years of being overlooked definitely take their toll - even when you logically know "why".
To be honest, I was good at being the Pastor’s wife, and Col’s mom, and the office manager, and the piano player... but felt like if it wasn’t for me wearing that name tag or standing beside my husband, people really didn’t KNOW ME. And (although I didn't realize it at the time), it led to one of the loneliest, most depressed periods of my life.
I didn't realize I was lonely, much less depressed. After all, things have to get done and I certainly don't have time worry about my mental health. As my Daddy would have said, "alright now, dry it up"... and keep going.
Fast forward a couple years...... I actually won(earned) a trip to a conference (in VEGAS!) for all kinds of network marketers, and there were many sideline artists who I had not met yet that were going as well. My bestie was going but she’s the only one I really knew - the rest I “knew” from being Facebook friends.
We got to the resort where the conference was, and we were walking around and introducing ourselves to people in REAL life that we had only “known” from social media. We may have been a bit star-struck withe some of the influencers we were meeting. I was sticking pretty close to my bestie because - who’d know me by myself right?
We walked over and introduced ourselves to a fellow artist named Kristin (I could absolutely kick myself for not getting a selfie with her!). She's now one of the top ranked artist in the company. Anyway I was like “Hey Kristin- I’m Tabatha Rewis” with my hand out, ready to shake hands and Kirstin barely let me get my last name out when said (LOUDLY I might add) “Tabatha!! I KNOW YOU!” And hugged my neck tight.
Honestly I don’t remember if we talked much after that or if she went on hugging other people’s necks but I do remember just kinda standing there for a sec in shock because she KNOWS me? She knows ME? Not my husband, or my son, or my job or my church...but she knows ME?
That was the first glimpse I’d had in quite a while of my OWN identity. And I can honestly say, the first time I liked my identity.
Because, for years, I'd staked my entire self-worth on who I identified as at the moment. In this moment, I was Col's mom - working mom, so couldn't be there for everything...but for the really, really important things, I was there cheering my baby! (as well it should be, thankyouverymuch).
The next moment, I was Pastor's wife, listening patiently with a smile on my face as someone goes into astonishing detail about their bunionectomy five years ago.
And after that, I was the office manager, having to make sure our AR was on target for the month, while juggling schedules, authorizations and facility maintenance.
So hearing that someone knew me for ....well, ME .... was pretty monumental. Heck, I don't think I even knew me for "me" at that point.
At that same conference, I ran into someone on my way to my seat - she called me by name and was so excited to see me (I mean, we are all excited to see each other at these things, lets be honest). I am still embarrassed to admit this, but I had the worst time trying to place her. She had to tell me two or three times who she was. She was another artist that was a Facebook friend - she was so good with people, she could pick me out of a sea of women and knew exactly who I was. But I didn't know her. We had SEVERAL things in common besides being sister artists...but I still couldn't place her - and I hope I didn't offend her when I tried (pretty clumsily) to cover up the fact that I didn't know her. (Since then, I've made a point of getting to know her better!)
You know, that weekend wound up being such a revelatory weekend for me. Truly life-changing. Not because of what I learned from the keynote speaker, and not because of the resources I would use to build my business where I envisioned it. But because I realized that even when I didn't know, I WAS KNOWN.
There's someone who knows us even when we don't know ourselves. He sees our struggles, our pain, our tears - and our masks that we wear to hide them - but He still KNOWS.
He knows me so much that when I was at my lowest - even though I didn't know it - he allowed this GA girl to cross paths with a UT girl in Las Vegas, NV - to prove to me that I was known.
Kristin doesn't know to this day the impact she had on a lonely, depressed wife with imposter syndrome. But it was profound.
I pray I can be used like that in someone's life. Maybe that's why I keep on with my business - to help women feel "known."
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