My Ink Dance

Discovering Extraordinary Grace in an Ordinary Life

Your Secret List

I had held back the tears as long as I could. I never meant to cry about this. I never meant to get worked up. But emotion found me just the same and finally link pulling the plug on a tub of water, I let it out.


Interestingly enough it was nothing big. We had been talking about Christmas plans. The typical who are we going to see when. How do we make so and so happy and still keep the peace with everyone else. I had made sure the kids were set; their lists scoured for the perfect choices with clear reminders that they would not, in fact, get everything. Food menus were swirling in my head and imaginary shopping lists were written, keeping in mind of course who doesn’t like lasagna and who stays away from gluten. Yes, everyone had been thought of.

Everyone except me.

As much as I wanted to orchestrate the perfect holiday for everyone around me, there was a squeak of a whisper: “What about what I want?”

I knew this wasn’t about the gift question. No, this was about finding a voice for what mattered to me. Yes, clearly that was my problem. I had forgotten about me. I had it figured out.

Until I didn’t.

Until I was sitting on that couch with tears streaming down my cheeks, the lights from the Christmas tree blurring together in a blanket of color. That was the moment that it really wasn’t about a list of things I wanted to have happen. The one thing I really wanted I had kept a secret, even from myself.

I wanted someone to care what I wanted.

I wanted to matter.

In this whole endless craziness of gifts and decorations and baking. In the wrapping and the cooking and the entertaining. In the deep down real heart meaning of Christmas.

I wanted to matter.

And I can say that I know who I am in Jesus. That little baby that would have still come just for me. Would have breathed in the smell of straw and cows, would have walked the streets and carried the cross, would have died in pain and come back in triumph. He would have done it all just for me.

Listen still, His heart speaks to mine, you matter. I know your list. I know your heart. I know the secret wishes that you keep buried deep. I know it, and I see you.

When you hear that little whisper down deep beneath all that you do, remember you are known and your list is never a secret to the baby who still would have come just for you.

Linking up beautiful words of hope today.

kristin hill taylortellhisstory-badge

Holley-Gerth-Button-250x250 (2)

About Becky Hastings

I am emotional and logical. I am strong and dependent. I am a juxtaposition of head and heart exploring it all through writing. And in all my mixed-up ways I am loved. I'm here to tell you that you are, too. Just the way you are.

6 Replies

  1. Becky, I totally understand. I have been there too but I LOVE how our Father knows our hearts, our wants, needs and deepest desires. While others may not know or care to ask, He does. So beautiful. This is something I’ll keep tucked away in my heart. Thank you for that. #CoffeeForYourHeart

    1. Becky Hastings

      Thank you Crystal! Blessings today!

  2. Becky,

    I so get this place you are speaking of. I have often felt overwhelmed by misplaced guilt for asking the very same question. And you are right… He knows. And because He knows, He sees the service and the giving, which replicates His heart towards us.
    And there is a table of gathering hearts, like yours that welcome us to be seen even if only across the light-waves, which open recognition that we all long to be seen in the light of the bright star which illuminates the gift that is ours to open every day.


    1. Becky Hastings

      So beautifully said Dawn!

  3. Yes, yes, yes. I’m with you. Thanks for linking up at #ThreeWordWednesday.

    1. Becky Hastings

      Thanks Kristin!

Leave a Reply