I Don’t Care: A Leah Season

One of my dearest friends has been teasing me a lot lately because I’m in my “I don’t care era.” This friend is always telling me that too much of that may not be good. However, when you have been on the opposite side of that, there is so much more harm to yourself than the good for those receiving so much of your care.

Over the last few weeks, the story of Leah has really struck me. For those of you who are not familiar, Leah was the first wife of Jacob-not the one he wanted, but the one he got first. Jacob was actually in love with her younger sister, Rachel, and wanted to marry her so her father (his uncle…Yea messy I know) told him that if he worked for seven years he would give Rachel to Jacob. He worked those seven years, but then his uncle basically said “oh nahhh in our culture the younger daughter can’t get married before the older so you gotta marry Leah first.” So, he did that and worked another 7 years because he wanted Rachel. 14 years of labor for the one he actually wanted.

When we’re introduced to Leah and Rachel as a pair, Leah is described as having “weak eyes” whereas Rachel “had a lovely figure and was beautiful.” Even in the description, there’s comparison. Separation. It doesn’t really seem like Leah was set up for success anyway. Jacob didn’t see her, but God did.

Leah was able to conceive four children for Jacob. The first three were named in an effort to make Jacob to see her:

Reuben— “The Lord has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now.”

Simeon — “The Lord heard that I am not loved.”

Levi — “Now my husband will become attached to me.”

But with the last one, she realized his love wasn’t what she needed and named him Judah—

“I will praise the Lord.”

She stopped looking at the gaze of a man and fixed her eyes on the Man who had always seen her.

For a long time, I didn’t really think about Leah’s point of view. All I saw was a man who loved a woman so much he worked fourteen years for her. But pause. What must it have been like to be Leah? To wake up every day married to someone who wished you were someone else. Rachel couldn’t even conceive at first, and yet she was still the one Jacob loved.

Meanwhile Leah kept thinking, maybe if I do more, he’ll pick me. But child after child—nothing. She was equating her value to a man. Why was she acting like such a pick-me? It confused me. Why would you keep trying for a man who isn’t trying for you? Why didn’t she love herself enough to stop? Then, I came to an unsettling realization: I’ve been a Leah too.

I applied to medical school back in 2020, and from January 2021 to March 2021, all I kept hearing was no after no after no. It was so frustrating. I did all the extracurriculars, I volunteered, I did research— “all the things that set you up for success,” — and still I wasn’t chosen. It was so easy to shame myself and just think of myself as a failure, but eventually I stopped doing that. Instead, I decided to read devotional after devotional on waiting and trusting in God. Wow, how my perspective changed.

In fact, if you walk into my bedroom, you will see colorful post-it notes on my wall, each carrying a verse about patience, purpose and God’s love. What started as coping with medical school rejection became something bigger. Because I realized it wasn’t just school.

It was people. It was jobs. It was opportunities. I was exhausting myself, adjusting pieces of who I was just to be noticed. And the wild part? God never asked me to.

Being chosen by people was never the foundation of your identity. You’re not overlooked. You’re not behind. Several months ago, we had a pastor who preached about Leah’s story. He said, “Jacob picked by sight. But God picked by destiny.” Leah was never God’s Plan B. Leah gave birth to Judah. From the tribe of Judah came David—the psalmist who wrote praise after praise. And generations later came Jesus Christ himself. The woman who was unloved by her husband carried the lineage of the Savior of the world. Sometimes rejection actually does protect your destiny.

Even when the job doesn’t see you, when the school doesn’t see you, when the man or woman doesn’t see you, when your family or friends don’t see you— God sees you. And that alone is a reason to praise His name. You weren’t created out of convenience. You were created with intentionality. You were created for a special purpose and plan. There’s an analogy that I love so much: Out of millions, you were the one that made it. You won the race. That’s why you’re here. This is a big reason why I love Psalm 139:

You created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place,

when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

No part of you was an afterthought.

No season of you was unaccounted for.

You were seen before you were ever selected by anyone else.

There will come a time in every Leah season where you get tired. And you’ll say,

“I don’t care anymore.” Not from bitterness, but security.

Security that God sees you.

Security that doors open because He stands behind them.

Security that your value is not tied to someone else’s preference.

That’s when the shift happens.

That’s when it ends in praise.

Even Paul and Silas praised in prison and chains broke. Because praise shifts perspective before it shifts circumstance.

Leah’s story was never about being unwanted. It was about being unseen by people but fully seen by God.

And if you are in a Leah season, whether it’s a relationship, a job, a school, or a friendship: endure. You are closer to your breakthrough than you think.

And it will end in praise.

Love always,

God's Most Talkative Child