I go to your church, but you don’t know my name.

I sit in the back.

I slip out early.

I’m there every week…almost.

I try to follow God, but I’m not perfect.

You give me a smile and a handshake, but you don’t know my story.

You don’t know what I do for a living.

You don’t know my passions.

My struggles.

My plans or goals.

My past failures.

You’re happy I’m at church…you tell me every time I come.

But you never follow up throughout the week.

With an email or a phone call.

I’m not in a small group.

I’m haven’t been on a mission trip.

I’m not serving others.

I’m not on your radar.

Or your potential leaders lists.

But God’s gifted me.

And those gifts were meant to bless others.

Including you.

Our church needs my gifts.

And I need to use them.

But I need you.

I need your encouragement.

I need you to believe in me.

To breathe hope into my life.

Show me that I matter.

That God cares.

That I have a part to play.

That my story matters.

But until then…

I’m mostly forgotten.