We have a small television tucked into the corner of our kitchen. I bought it years ago because every Thanksgiving I found myself rolling out a pie crust to the familiar sounds of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade being enjoyed in the other room. I could hear the commentary, the marching bands, and some of the music, but so much of what happens on 34th Street is visual—the balloons, the dancing—and I was missing out. So, I bought a tiny TV, and I’m so glad I did. Not to mention, Best in Show, which immediately follows the parade, cannot be missed. I don’t keep up with much in the way of must-watch-television, but occasionally, when dinner prep requires chopping and peeling, I’ll throw on a documentary, which I enjoy immensely, and I’ll learn something or solve an unsolved mystery.

Last night was one of those nights. I was slicing mushrooms to sauté for our burgers and I remembered Netflix just released a documentary about the breakdancer from Australia who went to the Olympics and became a global punchline. I switched it on immediately.

Two years ago, when footage flooded social media with her performance my heart broke for her. She was still out of breath from dancing, exiting the stage area after her last performance, when she had already become the laughingstock of the internet. Her name is Rachel Gunn, AKA Raygun, and she represented her nation of Australia with specific dance moves that pointed to her beloved country, but nobody cared. Rachel not only became a disparaging meme, she became a halloween costume, and a point of ridicule on late-night television.

This brave woman climbed the steps to a global stage and danced her heart out, but the public was vicious and relentless in its derision of Raygun.

My burgers took longer than they should have because I got sucked into the story of her brokenness after public humiliation and I found myself getting teary with her. I stood in my kitchen with my eyes glued to the screen and I thought, “This is why.”

This is why I have stayed quiet. While I don’t know the global ridicule Rachel has experienced, I do know the feeling of being laughed at, ridiculed, and mocked. I have stepped into rooms and froze realizing I was the one being talked about and laughed at. I've accidentally received a text intended for someone else about feelings of disdain towards me, and successful hate campaigns have been launched in my honor. But, to quote one of my favorites, R.C. Sproul,

“When I think I’m unfairly hated, I try to remember that I am unfairly loved.”

Perspective is powerful. It can shift the heart into alignment, taking our gaze off of our own circumstances and onto the undeserving affection of a Heavenly Father who is attentive to our every moment of hesitation and doubt, and Who loves us with an immeasurably spectacular love. This is the same Heavenly Father who measured the waters in the hollow of His hand and marked off the heavens with a span (Isaiah 40:12). It may be possible that we have become desensitized to the incredible awesome reality we exist in as humans, that we have access to the Creator of the universe!

We should probably take a minute and think about that.

People will be people. They’ll laugh and jeer, and they’ll continue to tell their story of why I shouldn’t be on this mission, but regardless, I will declare God’s Goodness, His Glory, and His Love until my dying breath.

It won’t always be pretty, I can be a bit of a hot mess.

But, I commit to continuing to run after Jesus, to reach for the fringe on His garment, and sit at His feet. I will continue to learn and I will continue to share.

We weren’t meant to journey this life alone.

Come with me, and let’s figure out these messy and hard days together… “Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus.”

This is Why.