A Facebook Message From God To Remind Me I Matter

Over the past few years I’ve often found myself questioning if I really matter in this world. In fact, I even wrote an article on this very subject about a year ago. Ironically, God reminded me just over a week ago that I most certainly do and it came in the most interesting way.

It all started early on a Sunday morning when I awoke feeling extremely blue and riddled with my usual bouts of pain. As I tried to roll out of bed, I looked outside and noticed the sky was gray and some light snow was falling. The gloomy weather only seemed to intensify my despair and make it all the more challenging to get up and move forward with yet another day of trials and tribulations. By the time I finally pulled myself together and finished my morning spiritual routines, it was well into the early afternoon. After having a quick bite to eat, I logged onto Facebook and saw my partner had posted on his page one of our vacation pictures that I had already posted a few days earlier on my own page. It was a beautiful scene that looked out upon the ocean from our balcony and had well over 100 likes from his 300 or so Facebook friends. Meanwhile I glanced over on my page and saw how I had only a handful, even with the 800+ people I’m connected to. Shortly thereafter, I also became aware that one of my friend requests to someone I used to be very close to had been denied and I was now blocked from sending them another one. And just like that, I totally fell apart and began oozing self-pity from every pore.

I started yelling in my house quite loudly at God, at myself, and sadly, even at my partner, asking if I “f$$$king even matter to anyone on this planet”. During all those anger-filled moments I thought about the 1000+ articles I’ve written in this blog and how hardly anyone ever seems to read or comment on them. I thought about how my phone rarely rings with anyone asking me how I’m doing or wondering if I had any free time to get together. I thought about the number of people who have unfriended me on Facebook over the past year without any explanation. I thought about how I’m still not considered to be part of my partner’s family, even after 4 years of being in this relationship. I thought about the longevity of my pain and how my prayers for relief continue to go unanswered. Truth be told, I pretty much thought about everything during those moments that only enhanced my belief that I don’t matter.

Thirty minutes later I found myself at my AA home group talking to a woman who is a relatively new friend of mine and part of my recovery support network. I told her how I ultimately felt like I could disappear and that no one would probably care. She offered her comfort, of which I was thankful for, but unfortunately it didn’t take the feeling away of not mattering. But then, as the meeting was about to begin, I took one last look at my phone and noticed I had received the following Facebook message from someone I hadn’t spoken with for at least a year or two.

“Things aren’t going very well for me anymore but your positive posts give me hope that I’ll get through and conquer the challenges that are turning my life upside down. Your ability to draw strength in yourself is infectious and you should know that you matter so much.” 

As I read his words, tears filled my eyes and I realized that something greater than myself must be watching over me. Something greater than myself must have motivated my friend to send this message at the precise time he did. Because at least in that brief moment, when I read my friend’s message, I felt God crying along with me. And it was then I felt all my anger from the day melt away.

So while I may not know why God continues to allow me to go through so much hardship inside this body day in and day out, I’m overly grateful I can at least say there’s definitely something greater than myself out there who knows what I need, when I most need it. And in this case, it came in the form of a Facebook message to remind me I really do matter…

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson