I'm Just a Guy: Who Feels Aloneنموونە

Jesus Knows What It’s Like

Rejection doesn’t get easier with age—at least, it hasn’t for me.

When God called our family to leave the subdivision life and plant roots on a small farm, a lot got turned upside down. One unexpected challenge was losing access to my garage gym. The farm had plenty of barns but lacked a proper space to work out. Thankfully, a neighbor built a home gym and generously invited me to join him for regular workouts.

It was going great. The workouts weren’t just physically beneficial—they were building deeper brotherhood in Christ. But then, out of nowhere, something changed. He no longer wanted to work out together. I reached out, tried to understand what happened, but the message was clear: the door was closed. And in many ways, so was the friendship.

That moment of rejection stuck with me. It hurt. And while we remain cordial today, there's a distance that still lingers—and honestly, it’s just sad.

What became clear through that season is how rejection by someone we care about can shake our sense of worth. I spent time looking in the mirror, battling the condemning thoughts: Of course, he cut me off. If only I could see what he saw—maybe I would have cut it off too.

Experiences like that—maybe you’ve had your own—are what make it so comforting to realize that Jesus went through the same thing. It’s easy to focus on His ministry’s highlight reel: raising the dead, healing the sick with unorthodox methods, and walking out of the tomb in victory.

But there’s another side to His story: the rejection. Yes, the crowds turned on Him. But even more piercing was Peter’s denial. Not Judas—the one we expect to betray—but Peter. One of His closest friends. His inner circle.

Even though Jesus knew Peter would deny Him, I can’t help but wonder about the sting in His heart when that rooster crowed. Picture it: Jesus, bound and led away to His death... and within earshot, His best friend disowning Him. Not once. Not twice. But three times.

The more I reflect on that moment, the more peace I have when rejection touches my own journey. Because we don’t serve a distant God. We serve a Savior who’s walked the path of sorrow and betrayal. He gets it. He’s been there.

For me, the hardest question I had to wrestle with was this: Did I do something wrong? And honestly, I believe that's a worthy question—one that deserves sincere reflection. There’s humility in being willing to examine our hearts and actions.

When we ask that question, we come to a fork in the road. One path reveals that, yes, we may have done something wrong—and if so, we need to own it, seek forgiveness, and grow from it. But in some cases, like with my friend—and certainly with Jesus—I simply can’t point to anything wrong that was done.

That leads us to the second path, and admittedly, it’s easier for Jesus to walk than it is for me: the path of acceptance. We must accept that sometimes people are working through their own struggles, wounds, and stories. Their rejection may have more to do with their journey than with our actions. And in those moments, our role is not to fix or convince—but to love. To care anyway. Even when it hurts. Even when it’s not returned.

Whatever the hurt, whatever the rejection, whatever the pain—Jesus doesn’t just understand. He stands with you in it. And when everyone else walks away, He stays.

Reflection Questions:

1. When have you felt deeply rejected by someone you trusted?
2. How can you lean on Jesus during seasons of personal hurt?