Belonging is something we all crave (even if it is a craving we repress). Woven into the fabric of our being is a desire not only to be known but also to be welcomed just as we are. Like an infant longing to be cradled, we want to be soothed. We want to be held. We want to know we are safe in the presence of other people and in the presence of God himself.
But belonging often gets confused with acceptance.
This week, I began a live conversation series over on Instagram called “Let’s Talk About Belonging,” where I invite a guest to talk about some of the complexities of finding our place and our people. The first friend to join me was Jenai Auman, who told her own story of trying to quench that thirst for belonging with attempts to fit in culturally and relationally.
Jenai shared, “Belonging for a long time was about survival…about what I need to do to be accepted.” She went on to talk about how she rejected and hid pieces of who she was in order to cope. Relational wounds only amplified the ache, and even now, in the wake of church hurt and a continued journey toward healing, Jenai finds herself asking:
“Am I actually welcomed, or am I being asked to reduce myself down to a simmer and pour it into a Jello mold?”
*PHEW* I felt that. While the details of our stories are different, I relate to Jenai’s accounts of feeling out of place and trying to fit in, of diminishing or distorting herself in attempts to find the belonging she desired on the other side. How often I have done the same.
Yet here’s what I’m learning:
Belonging does not shrink; it expands.
While acceptance is largely external and carries a set of expectations, belonging does not require us to bend who we are. It is a settledness that begins on the inside and grows as we lean further into the fullness of God and into who we are as his beloved, so much so that we become an extension of his welcome in the world.
I know I’m going to continue marinating on this conversation with Jenai. There’s much more I did not include here, including how relational trauma impacts our sense of belonging. But these are the reflections I am taking with me into the week, and I hope you will too. (And feel free to join me this week for another Let’s Talk About Belonging conversation with my friend—and boss!—Carla H. Hayden on Friday at 12 pm ET as we talk about how self-discovery and personal growth impacts community.)
grace + peace,
Sarah
PS: If you’re new here, howdy! Hello. Welcome. The Shelf slips into inboxes every Monday, including a short(ish) letter on faith and belonging as well as a short list of good things to pick up. I’m glad you found us. Feel free to hit reply and say hey.
Good Things to Pick Up
Over the course of the Let’s Talk About Belonging series, I will share a few of the resources mentioned in our chats. You can also CLICK HERE to listen to the full conversation.
A Quote
A Book
Braving the Wilderness (Brene Brown)
A Reflective Question
Ask: What helps you live within the delight of God?
A Newsletter
Letters for the Wilderness (Jenai’s newsletter)
A Friend to Follow
Jenai Auman writes regularly for those navigating church hurt and spiritual abuse. You can connect with Jenai at her self-proclaimed “digital dining table” over on Instagram at @jenaiauman.
Community Question
Each week, I pose a question for subscribers, and I’d love to hear from you. Sometimes we keep things light, but other weeks, we try to dig deep (this is one of those weeks). You’re welcome to respond here in the comments or reply via email.
Q: What is one thing you have felt like you needed to change about yourself in order to find acceptance?
I’ll offer my answer first to get things going: I have often pushed down or hid my big emotions when I did not think they would be well-received.
I think for me, it's been hard to connect with other moms because my experience of motherhood has not been one that I expected, and it never felt appropriate to say that. I remember one bible study I went to when I had 3 children under 3, and we were talking about having joy in afflictions--and people were naming their afflictions and I just sat there like a statue, because I kept thinking, "what if I feel like my affliction is motherhood?" I have struggled to name how difficult mothering is for me, because I also love my children so much (and turns out I actually struggle mainly with mothering young children and the big ones delight me) but I never heard anyone else talking about how hard it was. I always tried to push down the part of myself that will name struggle because it didn't seem like everyone wanted to hear it. My very dearest friends though, are the ones who name struggle with me and then also remind me of hope and joy.
Love this! Thanks, Sarah. It was such a great conversation.