Already Known: Sussie’s story
Chapter 1 — The Weight of Silence
Susie sat in the back pew, stomach turning for more than one reason. She hadn’t prayed in weeks. She couldn’t. Every whispered comment, every sideways glance at her growing belly reminded her of the mistake she couldn’t hide – she had failed, not just herself , not just her family, but God. She wasn’t just carrying the weight of a baby out of wedlock—she was carrying the shame others had wrapped around her.
“She used to be such a good girl…” she had overheard one woman say. Another had muttered, “What a shame. Such a waste.”
The words stung more than she wanted to admit. They played in her head on repeat, louder than the songs coming from the worship team.
She stayed standing with the congregation, but her lips didn’t move. How could she sing about God’s goodness when all she felt was shame? She wanted to pray, but the words wouldn’t come. It felt like if she even tried, God would turn away.
Susie thought about Adam and Eve in the garden, hiding after they sinned. She understood them now in a way she never had before. Hiding felt easier than facing Him.
The pastor’s voice rose after the song. “Some of us came in today carrying disappointment with ourselves. If that’s you, you’re not alone.”
Susie’s heart beat faster. She kept her eyes down. Then came the verse, read slowly and gently, almost as if it were meant for her:
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I set you apart.”
The words caught her off guard. She had heard them before, but today they sounded different. Could it be that God already knew this part of her story? That He wasn’t surprised at all?
She pressed her hands together, not sure if it was prayer or simply trying to steady herself. For the first time in weeks, she wondered: If He knew me before I began, maybe He hasn’t changed His mind about me now.
Chapter 2 — The Conversation
Susie’s mind drifted as the pastor kept speaking. Instead of hearing the words, an old memory rose up. She was fifteen again, standing in the school hallway with her best friend, backpack slung over one shoulder, still buzzing from a morning exam.
That was the day one of her classmates blurted out, half-joking, half-serious, “I can’t give my life to Christ. I’ve done too many bad things.”
Susie remembered how quickly she had answered back, almost offended by the thought.
“No one’s too bad for God. That’s the whole point. He forgives everything.”She could still see her classmate’s sceptical face, the way she shook her head like Susie didn’t understand. Susie had walked away, certain she had spoken the truth, proud even, that she stood up for grace.
But now, years later, sitting in the back pew with her belly making her secret visible to everyone, Susie felt like the roles were reversed. What she once defended so boldly for a classmate—God’s grace—she now struggled to believe for herself. She was the one whispering, “I’ve done too many bad things.”
And instead of quick answers, she carried only questions.
- Did
she believe the words she had once spoken with so much confidence? - Could
God’s forgiveness really stretch this far? - And
if it could, why was it so hard to forgive herself?
The worship team started another song, voices rising, but Susie barely heard it. She kept thinking about that hallway moment. Back then she had believed that grace was bigger than sin, no matter what. But somewhere along the way, life had gotten more complicated, and now she wasn’t so sure.
She rested her hand against the wooden pew in front of her, trying to ground herself. Was I wrong back then? Or am I just too scared to believe it for myself now?
The thought lingered, heavy and unsettling.
Chapter 3 — A God Who Walks in Gardens
The next Sunday, Susie almost didn’t come. She sat in her room staring at the ceiling, convincing herself she could pray at home, that God would understand. But in truth, she wasn’t praying much at all. Silence felt safer than opening her mouth and hearing nothing back.
Still, something pushed her out the door. Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was the baby growing inside her, reminding her that life didn’t stop because she wanted to hide.
She slid into the same seat at the back, one hand resting on her lap, the other brushing against the curve of her belly. It was obvious now. People didn’t have to whisper to know. She was carrying more than just a child—she was carrying a story she hadn’t planned on telling.
During the service, the pastor read from Genesis. The words landed heavier than usual: “Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees.”
Susie’s chest tightened. She had heard that story a hundred times growing up. But for the first time, she understood the hiding. Adam and Eve had leaves. She had baggy sweaters and late arrivals. They thought covering themselves would ease the shame. She thought silence and distance might do the same.
But what struck her most wasn’t the hiding—it was the walking. God still came. He still called their names. He didn’t storm in with thunder or fire. He came in the cool of the day, looking for them.
Susie shifted in her seat, trying not to cry. Could that really be true for her too? Could God still be walking toward her, even here, even now, with her belly making her mistake visible to everyone?
The thought unsettled her. If He was still walking toward her, then maybe she didn’t need to run so far.
She bowed her head, whispering the smallest prayer she had dared in weeks: “God… are You still looking for me?”
Chapter 4 — The Father Who Runs
That week, Susie dragged herself to the midweek service. It was smaller, less formal, and she thought maybe fewer eyes would be on her. She sat near the back, as usual, trying to disappear into the shadows.
After worship, the pastor invited a guest to share. Susie recognized him—Harry. He had grown up in the church, a respected man in his thirties. Susie remembered him leading worship years ago, confident and full of energy.
But Harry looked different now. Calmer. Softer somehow.
He cleared his throat, gripping the microphone with both hands. “Most of you know me,” he began, his voice steady but low. “What you may not know is that I almost lost everything a few years ago.”
The room fell silent.
“I was trapped in addiction. Porn, drugs—you name it. I thought I had it under control, but sin doesn’t stay small. It grew until it consumed me. When it finally came to light, I felt like an outcast. People I loved avoided me. I avoided myself. I thought God was done with me.”
Susie’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected honesty like this—not from someone like Harry.
He paused, looking down before continuing. “But here’s what I learned: God wasn’t surprised. He knew my weaknesses long before I did. And He still chose me. The hardest part wasn’t His forgiveness. It was learning to forgive myself.”
Susie stared at her hands. His words felt like they were aimed straight at her chest. God wasn’t surprised. The thought echoed louder than the whispers she’d been carrying for weeks.
Harry went on, “I realized I was like the prodigal son. I had wasted everything, and I thought I had no right to come home. But the Father ran to me. He welcomed me back before I could explain myself. That’s the God we serve—one who still runs toward us.”
The congregation nodded, some clapping softly. Susie swallowed hard. She had heard the prodigal story a hundred times, but hearing it from Harry’s mouth—someone who had lived it—made it real.
After service, Susie tried to slip out quietly, but Harry caught her eye as he stepped off the platform. He didn’t rush her. He simply gave a small nod, like a man who understood more than he said.
For the first time in weeks, Susie didn’t feel completely alone.
Chapter 5 — SWOT and the Secret Place
Susie lingered after the Sunday service, pretending to scroll through her phone while most of the congregation made their way out. She wasn’t sure why she stayed. Maybe she didn’t want to walk through the crowd. Maybe she just wasn’t ready to return home to silence.
She looked up and saw Harry talking with Pastor Miriam near the front. His shoulders were relaxed, his laughter unforced. The man who had stood at the microphone days ago confessing his addictions didn’t look like someone crushed by shame. He looked…free.
Pastor Miriam caught Susie’s eye and motioned her forward. Susie hesitated, then slowly made her way down the aisle, one hand brushing against the curve of her belly.
“Susie,” Miriam said warmly, “this is Harry. You heard him share earlier in the week.”
Harry nodded. “Good to meet you.” His eyes were kind, steady—not curious, not pitying.
Susie gave a faint smile. “I didn’t expect you to be so honest the other night.”
Harry chuckled softly. “Me neither. But hiding almost destroyed me. I learned something in the dark—that God already knew everything about me. My strengths, my weaknesses, my mess. Nothing I confessed surprised Him.”
Susie looked down. “That’s easier to believe for other people.”
Harry didn’t argue. He let the silence stretch for a moment before saying, “I used to think that too.”
Pastor Miriam stepped closer. “Susie, can I tell you something I share with all my students? God has already done your SWOT analysis. He knows your strengths—He delights in them. He knows your weaknesses—and He’s already made provision for them. He sees the opportunities in your future, even when you can’t. And He knows the threats that try to drag you down.” She touched Susie’s arm gently. “None of it surprises Him. None of it changes His choice to love you.”
Susie felt tears welling. She tried to blink them back, but one slipped free. She whispered, “But what about the things everyone else sees? The shame I can’t hide?” Her hand pressed unconsciously against her belly.
Harry leaned forward, voice steady. “Then let them see. I carried shame no one could see, and it nearly killed me. You carry yours on the outside. But shame isn’t the end of your story. It wasn’t mine. God doesn’t run away—He runs toward you.”
Susie drew in a shaky breath. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding everything in until that moment. Something in her chest loosened.
Pastor Miriam smiled. “The secret place isn’t about hiding from God. It’s about realizing you’re already known—and still wanted.”
Susie let the words settle. For the first time in months, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she could believe them.
Chapter 6 — Already Known
That night, Susie sat on the edge of her bed, the room dim except for the glow of her bedside lamp. The house was quiet. Too quiet.
She pressed a hand against her belly. The small life inside her shifted, and the movement startled her into tears. For weeks she had treated her silence like a shield, afraid that if she spoke to God, He would turn away. But Harry’s story kept replaying in her mind. And Pastor Miriam’s words lingered too: The secret place isn’t about hiding from God. It’s about realizing you’re already known—and still wanted.
Susie took a shaky breath. “God…” she began, then stopped. Even saying His name felt too bold. She swallowed, tried again.
“God… I don’t even know what to say.”
The words cracked in her throat. She pressed her palm harder against her belly. “I’ve messed up. I know it. Everyone knows it. And I hate that it’s all they see when they look at me.”
Her voice broke. “But You—you saw it before it happened. Didn’t You? And still, You didn’t change Your mind about me?”
The question hung in the room like smoke. For the first time in weeks, the silence didn’t feel like rejection. It felt steady. Solid. Almost like Someone was there, listening.
Susie wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. She whispered, “If You already knew me before I was born, then maybe You also knew this moment. Maybe You knew I’d fall and still called me Yours.”
She let the thought sink in. For the first time, shame didn’t feel like the last word.
As she reached for her Bible, it fell open to a page she had underlined long ago. Her eyes landed on the words: “Nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Her chest rose and fell, slower now, as if her body understood before her mind did. She whispered one more word, softer than the rest.
“Here.”
It wasn’t eloquent. It wasn’t long. But it was enough.
And in that quiet, Susie felt something shift. The silence she had dreaded for weeks no longer pressed her down—it wrapped around her like a blanket. She wasn’t sure if it was peace or simply exhaustion, but either way, she knew she wasn’t alone.
Already known. Still wanted.
Chapter 7 — Chosen Before
Sunday morning came again, and Susie surprised herself by looking forward to church. The whispers hadn’t stopped, and the stares hadn’t vanished, but something inside her was different. She no longer came to prove she was worthy or to hide her shame. She came because she wanted to be near the God who hadn’t walked away.
During the sermon, Pastor Miriam’s voice carried gently through the room. She read a familiar passage, one Susie had been turning over in her mind all week:
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.”
Susie pressed her hand against her belly. This time, the verse didn’t feel like a condemnation—it felt like a promise. God had known her story before it began. He had seen every strength, every weakness, every mistake, every fear. And still, He had chosen her.
After the service, as people lingered in the foyer, Harry walked over. His presence was calm, unhurried. “How are you holding up?” he asked.
Susie hesitated, then answered honestly. “Better. Not perfect, but better. For the first time in a long time, I feel…not disqualified.”
Harry smiled. “That’s grace. It doesn’t erase the past, but it changes what the past means. I used to think my failures defined me. Now I know they just remind me of how much I need Him.”
Susie nodded, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I’m starting to believe He’s not surprised by me.”
“He isn’t,” Harry said simply. “He never was.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and Susie realized she wasn’t carrying her shame alone anymore.
As she left the church that day, the sun broke through the clouds. She paused on the steps, face lifted toward the warmth. She wasn’t naïve—she knew whispers would come again, and shame would try to crawl back. But now she carried something stronger: the unshakable truth that she was known before she was born, chosen long before she could succeed or fail.
She whispered the words softly, almost like a vow to herself and her child:
“Already known. Already loved. Already His.”
And with that, Susie walked forward—not perfect, not unscarred, but free.
Epilogue — For You
Susie’s story may feel familiar. Maybe you haven’t walked in her shoes, but you know what it’s like to carry disappointment in yourself. You know the sting of whispered judgments, the heaviness of secrets, or the quiet fear that you’ve gone too far for God to welcome you back.
But here’s the truth: you were never holding God up, so you can’t let Him down. He saw your whole life—strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats—before you even lived your first day. And still, He chose you.
The Bible says:
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.” (Jeremiah 1:5)
That means nothing you’ve done shocks Him. Nothing you will do will surprise Him. His love was written over your story before your story even began.
So if you’ve been hiding, maybe today is the day to step out of the shadows. Like Susie, you don’t have to have all the words. Sometimes a whisper of “Here” is enough.
The Father is still running toward you.
- Did
- 0 Replies
Sorry, there were no replies found.
Log in to reply.