Somewhere between unanswered texts, sitting on bleachers at volleyball games, and wondering why spiritual growth always seems to come wrapped in suffering, I found myself asking a quiet but unsettling question: Does it matter that I’m here? This post is about feeling invisible in the spaces that matter most—at home, at work, in faith—and the reminder that our worth was never meant to be measured by how needed we are, but by how deeply we are loved.