Beyond What They Saw

Beyond What They Saw

By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

This ain’t no made-up story. It’s not some pretty poem trying to get applause or a clever tale wrapped in fancy metaphors. Nah this right here is my truth. Raw and unfiltered. This is me standing bare before you, saying, “This happened. This is real.” And maybe, just maybe, it’s your story too.

See, folks have a way of zeroing in on your mess. They’ll clock your dirt, your flaws, all the bruises and blunders and act like that’s the whole of you. But there was One who looked at me through a lens that wasn’t stained by my slip-ups. He saw beyond the drama, the damage, the days I couldn’t hold myself together. He saw me.

Yeah, I’ve stumbled. Big time. I’ve tripped over my own pride, got tangled in mistakes that left scars. I’ve wept quietly in the dark and laughed too loud just to hide the ache. People judged me from the outside, slapped labels on my name and never once asked what my soul had been through. Friends fell away like autumn leaves. Family, too. They looked at where I was and figured that’s all I’d ever be.

But He didn’t buy into all that noise.

He waited. Calm. Still. Steady. And when I hit my lowest, when I couldn’t find one single good thing about myself, He called me soft, deliberate like my name was a song only He knew. And you know what? It was holy. Because to Him, I’ve always been more than just my past. I’ve always been sacred.

While everyone else was busy pointing fingers at my failures, He pointed toward my heart. The very part of me they overlooked. They saw ashes; He saw fire that hadn’t gone out. They turned away; He reached for my hand.

I remember that day I broke. No warning. Just shattered from the weight. I couldn’t stop crying. My chest was tight, my breath shallow. But He didn’t flinch. He didn’t give me some spiritual lecture. He sat with me in it. Wiped every tear, like He had all the time in the world.

He didn’t rush me.

He just let me feel. And once I was spent, once I had nothing left to cry out, He gave me something new peace. Not the kind you fake. The kind that calms the storm in your bones. He reminded me: “Your worth ain’t wrapped up in people’s opinions. It’s carved into My love.”

So if you’re reading this, and you’ve been dragging around the weight of guilt, or shame someone else dumped on you, hear me: it’s not yours to carry. Maybe somebody told you you’d never be anything. Maybe you started to believe it. Maybe love felt like something you had to earn. I get it. I really do.

But let me tell you something that changed everything for me: He saw the best in me even when I was a hot mess.

Not the polished version I tried to show the world. Not the “blessings and highly favored” mask. The real me. The messy, tired, half-healed, still-struggling version. The one with questions, with regrets, with late-night prayers that sometimes turned into silent stares at the ceiling.

And He loved me right there.

So lift your chin, even if it shakes. Take a breath. Take His hand. Let Him speak your name again the name no one else gets quite right. Let Him lead you into healing, into becoming, into the you He’s always known.

Because even when they walked away…

Even when they laughed or whispered or shrugged you off…

Even when you gave up on yourself

He never did.

He sees the best in us. Still. Always.