Have you ever felt overlooked by someone, then wondered whether they would make time for somebody else? Maybe you invited them to spend time with you, only to learn they had accepted someone else’s invitation after declining yours. Or perhaps you caught yourself thinking, “If somebody else asked, they’d probably say yes.”
Sometimes it’s the invitation that never comes. Someone keeps talking about their season tickets to a team you both follow. You talk about the games together, and you start hoping that one day they’ll ask you to go. But the invitation never comes.
You know they don’t owe you a ticket. You just would have liked to be thought of.
Whether something happened or you only imagined it, you can end up in the same place, wondering if someone else matters more.
I’ve caught myself there. I start wondering why someone hasn’t made time for me. Then I begin filling in the blanks. Before long, I’m hurt by the reasons I’ve come up with, even though I don’t know if any of them are true.
That’s the thought I don’t like admitting.
I want to be gracious. I don’t want to keep score. But sometimes I remember how many times I’ve reached out, and I begin comparing that with how often someone has reached back.
Underneath it all, I wanted a connection. I wanted to spend time with someone. When that didn’t happen, I took it personally.
Did I do something wrong? Do they not enjoy being around me? Does this relationship mean more to me than it does to them?
Those are uncomfortable questions. They’re even harder when I start treating my guesses like answers.
James 1:19 says to be “swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.”
I need that reminder when my mind is running ahead of what I actually know. Have I given the person a chance to explain? Have I considered that there might be something going on that I don’t know about? Or have I already decided why they didn’t make time for me?
Sometimes the other person has no idea anything is wrong, and I’ve already had an entire argument with them in my head.
Taking a moment to recognize that doesn’t remove the hurt. But it gives me a chance to reconsider what I’m doing with it.
When I pray about it, I need to be honest. I felt left out. I wanted to be included. And now I can feel that disappointment turning into resentment.
Psalm 139:23–24 puts words to the prayer I need:
“Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts:
And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
That prayer is harder when I’m convinced someone else is the problem. I want an explanation for what they did. But I’m asking God to look at what’s happening in me, too.
Am I assuming the worst? Am I holding on to every missed invitation? Am I allowing this hurt to change the way I speak to them?
I’ve had to repent over where my thoughts were going. I could see the resentment starting, and I didn’t want to let it grow. Sometimes my prayer is as simple as, “Lord, this hurt me. Help me deal with it without becoming bitter.”
First Corinthians 13:5 says charity “is not easily provoked.” I think about that when a small disappointment gets a bigger reaction from me than it should. Sometimes the moment in front of me is carrying several older hurts along with it. The other person may only know about today. I’m remembering every other time I felt overlooked.
There may be a conversation we need to have. A relationship may need some attention. I can be honest about that and still take responsibility for my own response.
Ephesians 4:26 says, “Be ye angry, and sin not.”
That gives me something to consider before I send a message or make a comment out of hurt. I can ask a question without making an accusation. I can explain how I feel without trying to make the other person feel guilty. And sometimes I can let a disappointment pass without allowing it to become a judgment about the whole relationship.
I’m still learning to do that.
I want to be able to welcome someone without quietly keeping count. I want to enjoy a conversation without measuring whether I matter as much as somebody else. And when those thoughts do come, I want to be honest enough to bring them to God.
I may never know why an invitation was declined or why another one never came. But I can recognize when disappointment is beginning to shape how I treat someone. That’s where I need to pause, pray, and give God room to work in my heart.
