Paws at Home Vet - Quincy, IL

1 day ago

Spring goes hand in hand with planting and gardening. For your pets’ well being, please be aware of these toxic plants and keep them away from their environment. 🐶🌱🌵🐈 ... Read MoreSee Less

Paws at Home Vet - Quincy, IL

3 days ago

We are back in the office for regular office hours this week: 8-2 weekdays except Thursdays. 🐶🏡😻 ... Read MoreSee Less

Paws at Home Vet - Quincy, IL

6 days ago

I think Roxanne decided to take vacation too. Our Paws Team will be back on Monday to address your messages. Thanks and have a great weekend! 🐶❤️😻Finally putting the real decision-maker on the line 🐶 ... Read MoreSee Less

Paws at Home Vet - Quincy, IL

1 week ago

As a freshman in vet school, I had an acquaintance tell me that I wasn’t going to be a real doctor. It was startling at the time and obviously made an impact if I still remember it this many years later. The way we treat each other truly leaves an impact.
In case you are struggling with “visibility”, I’m sharing this so you too know how very much Loved you are. 💜💜💜There is a very specific kind of feeling that comes with being invisible, and it is not always dramatic or obvious. Sometimes it is just this quiet, steady realization that you could walk into a room, sit down, do your thing, and leave, and it would be like you were never there. Which, depending on the day, is either deeply discouraging or actually kind of appealing. Because let’s be honest, there are moments in life where being invisible sounds like a solid strategy.

High school was…an experience. And I could have probably made a very strong case for being background scenery most of the time. Not in a tragic way. Just in a very consistent, “yep, I am here, doing my assignment, existing quietly, blending in with the desks and chairs” kind of way. I had it down to a system. Show up. Sit down. Do the work. Do not draw attention. Exit.

And then there are those moments that somehow take “invisible” and make it weirdly literal.

Like the time someone sat on my desk. On. My. Desk. While I was actively sitting there doing my assignment. Which means one of three things happened. Either he did not notice me, which is honestly impressive considering I am not, in fact, transparent. Or he noticed and did not care, which is not great. Or he noticed and still chose to sit there anyway, literally on the paper I was working on, which feels like a level of confidence I will never understand. There is no version of that situation where you walk away thinking, “Yes, I feel very seen and valued as a human being.”

And then college came along and said, “You know what this needs? A little more directness.” So I had a teacher look me in the face and tell me I was a waste of space in her class because I wanted to be “just a farmer.” Which is a bold statement to say out loud to someone who is literally paying to be there. Also, side note, I would love to know what she thought food was going to do long term. Just…grow itself out of sheer determination?

But comments like that stick. Not always in a loud, dramatic way. Sometimes they just settle in quietly and start shaping how you see yourself. You start thinking maybe you are meant to stay in the background. Maybe you are not the person people notice. Maybe you are not the one who matters in the room.

And here is where the Bible steps in and very politely disagrees with that entire line of thinking.

There is Hagar, who ends up in the wilderness feeling completely overlooked and discarded, and God meets her there. Not in front of a crowd. Not in a moment where everyone suddenly recognizes her value. Just her, in the middle of nowhere, and God sees her so clearly that she gives Him a name that basically means, “the God who sees me.” Not people in general. Me. Personally. Specifically. Which is a level of being seen that is almost uncomfortable if you think about it too long.

Then there is David, who was so overlooked that when Samuel showed up to anoint the next king, his own family did not even bother to bring him in. They lined up all the brothers like, “Surely it is one of these,” and David is out in the field with the sheep like, “Okay, cool, I guess I will just stay out here doing my job.” And God is like, “Yeah, you are all looking at the wrong thing. I am not.”

Which is both encouraging and also slightly humbling, because it means God’s criteria is very different from ours.

And then there is the woman in the crowd who reaches out just to touch the edge of Jesus’ cloak. She is not trying to be noticed. She is not making a scene. She is just hoping, quietly, that maybe this will be enough. And Jesus, in the middle of a crowd of people pressing in from every direction, stops everything and goes, “Nope, someone needs to be seen right now.” Which is wild, because if anyone could have let that moment pass unnoticed, it would have been Him. But He doesn’t.

And that pattern keeps showing up.

The people who feel overlooked, overlooked by everyone else, are the ones God seems to zero in on.

Which means being invisible to people and being unseen by God are not even in the same category.

So yes, there were a lot of moments where I felt invisible. And if I am being honest, there were days I preferred it. It is easier to not be noticed than to risk being noticed and dismissed.

But looking back, I do not think I was ever actually unseen.

Not when I was sitting at that desk minding my own business while someone treated it like a bench. Not when someone decided my entire future could be summed up as “just a farmer.” Not in any of the quiet, ordinary moments that felt like they did not matter.

Because apparently, being overlooked by people does not disqualify you from being noticed by God.

If anything, the Bible makes it pretty clear.

That is exactly where He tends to look first. ... Read MoreSee Less