CHOSEN

 
 
I marked the date on my calendar and circled it in red.  April 1st.  I knew I would have to wait until at least nine a.m. before checking the website to see if I had won.  I had submitted yet another entry in a scholarship competition to attend the She Speaks Writers conference, and April 1st was the day they would announce the winner.
 
At one second after 9 a.m. I logged onto the website and whispered one more prayer for God’s will and the grace to accept whatever that was. . .
 
I dutifully read the preliminary words about how each writer was a winner even if they weren’t chosen, and how difficult it had been to choose the winner out of 160 articles submitted for consideration.  I read the encouragement to “Keep writing.” and “Don’t give up."
 
Then I reached the paragraph that contained the winner’s name. . . 
 

and it wasn’t mine.  

 

I wasn’t chosen.

 

Not chosen.  Not chosen.  Not chosen.  Not good enough.  The words echoed in my head as the breath I had been holding escaped in a sigh of disappointment.

 

And before I could inhale, the words began again.

 

"The God of our fathers has chosen you that you should know His will, and see the Just One, and hear the voice of His mouth.”

 

"You are My witnesses, And My servant whom I have chosen, That you may know and believe Me, And understand that I am He.”

 

“For you are a holy people to the LORD your God, and the LORD has chosen you to be a people for Himself, a special treasure above all the peoples who are on the face of the earth.”

 

“But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light;”

 

“You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth, And called from its farthest regions, And said to you, 'You are My servant, I have chosen you and have not cast you away:”

 

I am a winner.  I will keep writing.  And I will not give up.  I am CHOSEN.