I’m not a brilliant scientist. I’m not a historian. I’m not a theologian. I’m not a philosopher. I’m not a child progeny. I’m not a hero. I’m not a saint. I’m not a great leader or a motivator of the masses. I don’t save lives and bring healing to the broken. I haven’t impacted the course of our nation or even fought for my own freedom. I am small, and weak, and I live a sheltered life. And when I am gone the world won’t grieve my passing. In the great scheme of life, I am just one minute speck in this awesome universe we all call home.
But despite my universal insignificance, I am a child of the Most High God. The God who set the stars into place. The God who created all things. The God who is the beginning and the middle and the end. The God who knows my every thought, my every deed, my every whim. The God who saw me while I was being knit together in my mother’s womb. The God who can tell me the number of hairs upon my head, and the exact number of freckles I had on my face as a child. The God who holds all things in the palm of his hand. The God who is bigger than life, and who conquered death and the grave. The God who smiles when I call his name. The God who comes running when I’m crying out in pain.
I am privileged. I am chosen. I am His. You can be too.