From Barcode to Belonging

Have you ever felt like you didn’t exist? On Monday, I did—lost in a crowd, stripped of my name, reduced to a number.

On Monday, I had jury duty in downtown Houston. I arrived at the jury assembly building, cleared security, and followed arrows to a row of self-service barcode scanners. I scanned my summons and entered a waiting room with 300 other prospective jurors—a sea of anonymous faces in which I was just another barcoded stranger. There I learned we’d be summoned to our assigned courtroom by juror number, not by name.

A few minutes later, I joined a group of 50 and received a placard with a new identification number for the attorneys. After five and a half hours—without being picked—I walked to my car, relieved to go home where I was not only known but welcomed with genuine affection.

The whole day seemed bleak and pointless. I was fulfilling my obligation, with no sense of purpose or satisfaction. It reminded me of Ecclesiastes: everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

Tuesday could not have been more different. I took a substitute job at the school where I’d spent twelve years teaching. From the moment I walked in, familiar faces greeted me with warm smiles and hugs. After the previous day’s ordeal, I was reminded how good it feels to be part of a community, to be truly known and valued.

That afternoon, the contrast between my two days struck me. I was reminded that deep within us all is a need to be known and loved, even in the midst of ordinary routines. Perhaps you’ve felt the same: lost in the crowd one day, cherished the next.

It is easy for Christians to drift through lifeless tasks under a cloak of virtual anonymity—a chasing after the wind. In my teaching career, I often felt cold and lonely, even among hundreds. I realize now that on those days, I forgot who and whose I was.

On those days, I had my eyes cast down to the earth and not up to the God who knows me perfectly and fiercely loves me. We’re all bound to have rough days, but we need to remember the admonition of Paul to the Corinthians:

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16–18)

. . . and that’s what I know today.