A Journey Through Striving, Silence, and the Ache of Feeling Un-Chosen

For nearly four decades, I poured myself into a career in post-secondary education. I climbed ladders, built programs, drove results, and constantly pushed for more—more growth, more recognition, more proof that I mattered. On the outside, it looked like success. On the inside, it was silent exhaustion.

Every day, I strove for excellence—but not always for the right reasons. My drive wasn’t just about performance. It was about proving something – to myself, to others, and maybe even to God.

Beneath the polished presentations and professional achievements was a deep, unspoken ache—a longing to be seen. To be chosen. To be enough.

The Wound Behind the Work

Adoption is a beautiful redemption story, but it often comes paired with a silent shadow—the belief that rejection came before reception. That lie took root early in my life. It shaped the way I saw myself, and it shaped the way I believed others saw me. I felt like an outsider in my own story.

I rebelled. I performed. I perfected. I built a life trying to compensate for that haunting feeling of being un-chosen.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but much of my success was actually a survival strategy. If I could just earn enough, impress enough, contribute enough—then maybe I’d finally feel secure. Maybe I’d silence the voice that kept saying, “You weren’t picked.”

But striving always comes at a cost.

I sacrificed my health.
I strained my closest relationships.

And, most devastatingly, I drifted from the God I’d known about—but never truly trusted.

The Search for Solid Ground

Sixty plus years. That’s how long I ran. That’s how long I drifted.

Sixty plus years of doing, building, leading… but still feeling like I hadn’t found home.
Sixty plus years of wondering if I was truly known.

I’ve come to realize that I wasn’t just climbing a career ladder—I was chasing belonging. I was grasping for identity, for validation, for the assurance that I was seen and chosen—not for what I could do, but simply for who I am.

That deep ache—that longing to feel chosen—wasn’t weakness. It was a sacred clue. It was the whisper of the Father drawing me closer to Himself, not with a list of demands, but with an invitation to rest in the truth I had run from for far too long: I already am chosen.

These are the questions that shaped my “why.”

This isn’t the end of the story—just the beginning. In Part Two, I’ll share what finally broke through the noise, how God tenderly called me back to Himself, and how He gave me a new vision—one rooted not in striving, but in surrender.

Final Thoughts

Maybe you’ve asked the same questions I once did—Am I truly chosen? Do I really belong? Is there more to who I am than what I’ve done or where I come from?

If so, you’re not alone. These aren’t just passing thoughts—they’re soul-deep cries for identity, belonging, and purpose. And the truth is, your identity isn’t found in people’s approval or past pain. It’s found in Christ alone.

So I ask you today:
Have you ever wrestled with feeling un-chosen?
Have you discovered who you really are in the One who calls you by name?

Your story matters. And your true identity—it’s waiting to be revealed in the arms of the One who has always chosen you.

Marketing With Purpose. Messaging with Light.