I am familiar with being told “no.” 

I am familiar with rejection. Usually, a few weeks after an interview, in a well-crafted email designed to make me feel better, but most recently over the phone. 

After delivering the bad news, the man I had been in contact with throughout the application process said, “I know this hurts.” But in that moment I felt alone, like no one else had experienced that type of pain. I wanted to shrink. I wanted to retreat inside of myself and run away simultaneously. I was confronted with the reality of being told no and this time I couldn’t put off responding for a few hours after throwing myself a pity party. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t affected. I was having a conversation and I had to respond.

Looking back, I still don’t know what the appropriate response is in that situation. Am I allowed to ask why? Do I say thank you? The insecure parts of me wanted to ask: “What’s wrong with me?” 

I remember saying, “I wish you well, thank you for the opportunity.” 

Thank you for the rejection.

That sounds bitter, but I say it now with a heart of gratitude.

Thank you for the rejection! Thank you for forcing me to confront the sting of rejection. Thank you for being instrumental in my realization that I can’t handle rejection! Thank you for giving the Lord space to invite me into deeper healing.

In this season of my life the rejection I face is amidst the job search, and it seems never-ending, but the sting isn’t exclusive to looking for employment. I have known rejection from family members, friends, boys, my high school dance team, organizations I wanted to join in college, the list continues! 

Rejection never feels good, but for some reason I told myself I could handle it. I can’t handle it. Not on my own and definitely not on my own terms. 

My idea of handling rejection was suppressing my pain. The Lord’s idea of handling rejection is pressing into pain. Leaning in with curiosity and discovering why rejection hurts. 

When I began to apply and interview for jobs, I repeated to myself “what is the worst that could happen? They say no and I move on.” After each no, I dusted myself off and chanted, “on to the next one.” I didn’t give myself room to feel sad, and eventually the sorrow couldn’t be ignored.

Sisters, I tried so hard to deny that I was wounded. I made excuses as I buried my feelings. I didn’t have time to feel hurt. I had things to do and showing my pain to the Lord, so he could heal it, wasn’t on my to-do list. 

I became numb to the pain. The sting of rejection was a constant companion I learned to ignore. I blocked it out and I repeated the refrain, “the worst thing they can say is no.”

Well, sometimes being told no is the worst. I was so used to being told “no” that I started to live from a place of indifference. I told myself that rejection didn’t matter, but it did matter! It was affecting my confidence in the Lord and my trust in His timing.

I clearly couldn’t handle it. 

In order to escape the sting, I had to turn to Jesus. I had to humble myself in front of Him and be open to healing. I needed to be attentive to my desires, careful not to look for satisfaction from potential employers, but the Father. I desired to be chosen, which is why rejection felt so painful. 

In prayer, when I was tempted to say “Jesus, your will be done, but can it be done faster?” The Holy Spirit gave me these words to pray instead: 

“Give me the grace to receive with joy a few more no’s, so that I can humbly accept a yes in your timing.” 

“I welcome rejection.”

Putting myself in the position to be told no again is humbling and an act of trust, but I know that I shouldn’t look to a job offer to fulfill my desires. Praying the words “I welcome rejection” is outrageous and bold and terrifying, but I have all the confidence in the world that the Lord will be with me through it all. He will turn my mourning into dancing. He will bring about good from my suffering. He will press into the pain. He will call me to sit in it. He will heal me every time I am rejected. He will handle it, because I can’t. 

No one understands the sting of rejection better than the Lord. If you ever find yourself feeling alone, like no one understands, remember this: the Lord knows your pain. He experienced the ultimate rejection throughout His Passion and Crucifixion, but He chose it for us! 

As a way to navigate my pain and allow the Lord to heal me, I have gotten into the habit of renouncing the lies and fears I believe. To experience deeper healing, I also claim the truth of who God is, what He says, and who I am. I invite you to pray with me. If the Holy Spirit invites you to change the words to better fit your situation, LET HIM!

Jesus, in your name, I renounce the fear of rejection.

Jesus, in your name, I renounce the fear that I will not be chosen.

Jesus, in your name, I renounce the lie that you do not choose me everyday. 

Jesus, in your name, I renounce the lie that I have to handle rejection on my own. 

Jesus, in your name, I claim the truth that I am chosen by you.

Jesus, in your name, I claim the truth that you desire to heal me.

Jesus, in your name, I claim the truth that rejection is a part of the life of a disciple. 

Jesus, in your name, I claim the truth that you are with me in my suffering and you bore it all before me.