I know what you’re thinking: Didn’t she just post yesterday? Yes, well, I’m trying something new.
I’ve heard of these things–you get a prompt and have so many minutes to write about the topic. No overthinking or over-editing. However, I have never been brave enough to face the challenge. Until today. Well okay, maybe “brave” isn’t quite the right word, but it will do for now.
My bloggy friend Dionne is hosting the linkup party at her blog, “Raw Christian” and here is the prompt, followed by my ten* minutes’ worth:
Today’s Topic: The Problem with Significance… we all want to be somebody
Do you ever feel lost in the crowd, just one among millions? I may rank pretty high in my own little world (you know—my home), but when I think of how many people there are on Earth, my significance seems to evaporate. What difference do I make? Does God even see me?
As I grew up I heard that God loves each of us as if we were the only person who ever lived. Also, that even if I had been the only person who ever sinned, Jesus would have died on the cross to rescue just me. And I think it’s true.
But somehow, instead of letting that idea make me feel more significant to God, my mind twisted it around like an Escher drawing. The perspective I came up with was “Yeah, but He also would have died on the cross if I’d never been born.” I turned right back into one drop in the ocean, feeling as if my existence didn’t make any real difference.
I’m not sure when or how that changed, but in recent years I’ve come to understand that God loves me and wants my spirit to enjoy His company. Me. As near as I can figure, the truth that makes all the difference is that God is infinite. He can listen to my quietest, most hesitant prayer just as intently as if I were the only one talking to Him. Even if, say, maybe two million other people are praying at exactly the same time.
I can’t imagine facing a crowd and paying individual attention to each person in it, but then, I am a mere finite mortal. God is eternal, He is everywhere at once and knows everything at once. He can do what I cannot. And as I accept that truth, it sinks in that God truly pays individual attention to little ol’ me. That my actions and hurts and feelings matter very much to Him. Sure, in that sense I’m “just like everyone else”—but that does not diminish the truth that He really cares for me.
What makes me feel significant, then, is not how big I am, but how big He is.
* I might have been in mid-sentence when the timer went off, so we could be looking at 10:20 or so. And I guess I should admit that I did just glance back over it to see if it made sense. A few minor edits might have been made….
Thanks for reading,