And the soul felt its worth

My Dearest Friend,

I’ve had this phrase on my mind lately — “and the soul felt its worth.” You know how many times I’ve sung “O Holy Night,” and not once taken note of this phrase? It happens so easily when you hear something so many times. I can’t tell you how many Bible verses I could say this about too. The amount of Sunday school stories that were ingrained in me but didn’t really hit my heart until later in life.

I suppose I’m thankful for this, in a way. If I were only to get something out of a song or a story or a teaching once, that would be so sad. But words on a page are more than just words on a page. Lyrics to a song are so much more than just words to be sung. It’s really the complexities of our souls that make this so. The way we engage with art is something I’m only beginning to understand. As our souls grow and change, and layers are peeled back to get to the good stuff, we engage with a piece of art — a song, a poem, a story, a painting — in a new way. And years down the road, you might come across that work of art again, and it will pierce your soul in an entirely different — and often more poignant — way.

The human soul is so intricately, unfathomably beautiful. And that brings me back to this phrase and the worth of our own souls.

These letters began with my writing about being “God’s favorite” (not a letter for public consumption just yet). Just for clarity’s sake, I don’t think God loves me more than my other brothers and sisters, but it’s a phrase that our Dad used — and continues to use — in my life to help me see myself clearly and see how He loves and favors me.

I think this idea of worth, though, takes things a bit further. Last fall, I saw in myself this insecure, little Rachel, clamoring for significance, attention, favor, and seeking it in all the wrong places. Going into relationships to extract honor and favor — a poisonous way to start any relationship. All of my relationships were contaminated by my own desire for significance and favoritism.

Now, there could be a variety of reasons for this, why I’m like this. I wonder if it had to do with being the youngest of a large family, struggling to be noticed and receive attention? I had — and have — a very sacrificially loving mother, but no one is perfect. I think about this now that I am a mother. I want to love my boys so well. I want to perfectly portray to them who God is. Everything I do, every interaction I have with them should be a mirror of how my Dad is with me.

But I fail every. Single. Day. I hate it, but I do, and so I have to pray that the Spirit will meet them in my lack, my imperfect love, to mend what brokenness I unwillingly cause. So, I’m not faulting my mother in any way. I adore my mother and think the world of her, how much she sacrificed as a single mom to care for, raise, and love us seven kids.

Whatever the reason, I’m grateful that God, in His kindness, pulled back the undergrowth in my soul’s garden to reveal this deep-seated structure of being and behavior and has been helping me weed it out bit by bit.

But now I’ve been thinking about finding my soul’s worth, and what that means. I love this idea of the soul finding its own worth. Don’t you? Every single soul was lovingly, uniquely crafted by the greatest Artist Himself; therefore, every soul is worthy.

And I think this is really what little, insecure Rachel was clawing at relationships for — worth. And not just relationships, but busyness, my job, my identity, even my giftings and strengths, looking for validation in who I am and who I’ve been made to be.

I think we’re all seeking worth in one way or another. Sometimes we look for it in addictions. More often than not, we look for it in “good” things like a position at church, a job well done in the workplace, a place in our community, therapy, just generally being a “good person,” a marriage, children, even hosting a Bible study or leading worship. I’m not saying everyone’s motives are entirely bad. We’re complicated beings, and it’s nearly impossible to completely separate the good from the bad. But I’m not a fatalist, so don’t give up yet. Thank God, He’s the God of the impossible.

I have good news. There is a place where your soul can feel its worth.

In the Christmas Carol, the first part of this sentence is this:

“Long lay the world, in sin and error pining,

‘Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.”

It’s in Him that our souls find and feel their worth. It’s in abiding in the Fellowship of the Father, Son, and Spirit that our worth is found. It’s in knowing God above all else that your soul will feel its worth. In sin and in error, we search for it everywhere else, but we’re left pining, wanting, until we are found in Him.

I’ve always loved this antiquated King James Version phrasing of Matthew 6v22:

“If therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light” (emphasis added).

I think it’s all tied together. When we’re singly focused on Jesus, remaining in the Fellowship, abiding in His love, our souls feel their great worth, and our whole being radiates the light that comes from knowing deep within ourselves of our great worth.

Now, I mentioned this idea of extracting honor, favor — worth — from relationships. Let’s flip this on its head. Until you look to God and receive honor, favor, and worth from Him, you will be grasping at every other aspect of your life, no matter how subtly and imperceptibly, to get it. Is that how you want to go about life? I’ll tell you what — for me that’s a big, fat “no”.

Rather than extracting it from the people around me, I want to direct my friends and family’s gaze to the worth of their own souls. Oh, my hands are literally shaking as I type this because, wow, what a thrilling prospect that is. That I could be used by Jesus to walk alongside a sister or a brother, to invite them into my life, to direct their eyes to Him, and to watch them feel their souls unfathomable, unique worth. What a beautiful, beautiful way to live, and if that’s all I do, I will die so happy.

But it takes a daily practice of remaining in the Fellowship, abiding, shedding the heavy, ill-fitting yoke of the world and wearing the light and easy yoke that Jesus offers, lifting my face to the radiance of the Father and letting the Spirit minister within me to feel my own soul’s worth. When you receive honor and worth from God, the honor that the world has to offer cannot seduce you. You see it for what it is — empty, a farce.

Only then can we walk into relationships, interactions, community, work as a source of worth, favor, and honor to those around us. Instead of grasping at worth from those around us, we freely and joyfully give it.

I’ll close with this. Jesus talks a lot about how those who are last will be first, those who are servants will be leaders. I noticed something new this last time I read the narrative of Jesus’ washing His disciples’ feet in John. Before John tells of Jesus washing the feet of His closest friends, John writes, “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper (emphasis added).” And he goes on to share about the foot washing.

I was struck. What freed Jesus to be a servant, to put Himself last? What enabled Him to so liberally and graciously honor His disciples, those who were considered lower than Him, in such a humbling way? Jesus knew, down to the very depths of His being, deep into the recesses of His soul, His identity, His calling, His place — His soul’s own worth. And out of this place of strength, of knowing without a doubt how worthy and worth it He is in His Father’s eyes, He became a servant, attributing worth to those around Him.

Dearest friend, may you also search and find and feel the worth of your own soul.

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