Grief is Not Jealousy

We've never been close,

They belong in a sea of people,

I am other than,

Bound by blood that isn't thicker than water,

We share freckles, lineage and passiveness. 

It's not jealousy, or greed. 

Grief. 

Grief at the reminder of my otherness. Grief that I am once again not chosen. 

Like a blade of grass under a magnifying glass on a bright, sunny day, my soul is singed by knowing. 

I am found wanting. 

I'm not a preacher, or a preachers wife. 

I'm not a baseball player, or a fisherman,

I'm not a neighbor, or a nurse. 

I’m just me. 

A singer and a poet.

A dreamer and a grower.

A binger and a loser.

I'm just me.

A flawed human being. 

A wildflower basking in the sun. 

A try hard and a people pleaser.

A rebel and a liar. 

I'm just me. With the blood that isn't thicker than water, freckles and otherness.

And I'm okay. Unchosen and unknown. Grief is human, and okay. 

Praise God that human choosing isn't a factor in His choosing.