"So what do you do then? Are you just a groupie?" he chuckled from the driver's seat. "This must be pretty great for you."
Jaw clenched I breathed out through my nose. A torrent of remarks and self-defense quivering on my lips. I quietly informed him I'm a paid crew member.
"Yeah, but you certainly hitched your cart to the right wagon! You lucky girl."
I didn't respond.
But later that night I cried because his words hurt. It hurt to know he thought I didn't have a real job. It hurt to know he didn't get what I do, what I get paid to do. It hurt to hear that he thought I married my husband because I was some fame-crazed fan girl.
It hurts to be misunderstood.
I wanted to say that I quit my job to serve my husband's calling. To keep our family together, to help keep the band functioning. I wanted to say that yes, I do feel lucky to be married to my husband, but only because I think he's the most incredible man in the world. And I'd love him if he were doing any other job. I wanted to say so many things, but some battles only worth absorbing and moving on.
That's my story. But we all have stories like that don't we? And there are always people who will misunderstand us. The parents who don't understand why you quit your high-paying job to do ministry. The boss who doesn't understand why you won't relocate. The stubborn teenager who hates you for not letting them go to that concert, get that piercing. The girlfriend who doesn't understand the family pressure on your shoulders.
We're all misunderstood. And yet we're all understood.
We're understood by the most misunderstood man of all time. Jesus-- God-- walked among us and we misunderstood him the entire time. We didn't get his purpose, his ministry, his mission, or his purpose. To the point where we crucified him on a cross, Jesus, the Misunderstood King of the Jews.
We're understood by the most misunderstood man of all time.
It makes my grievances against the runner that day feel petty. And compels me to extend grace. Grace because he doesn't understand, and he's not obligated to "get" me. Grace because that's what I receive everyday when I misunderstand God. Grace because grace opens our eyes to get what the things we don't naturally understand.
It makes us brave enough to be misunderstood.