I am timid. I am tiny. I am not big enough to make a dent in this massive, cosmic universe.
I am ordinary. I am nothing special and I have no charm to entertain for hours or a flash of brilliance to liken my mind to those of the greats before me. I have no talent to capture an audience, nor do I have the conversation skills to liven up a room. I have more bills than bonuses, my feet are a little too long and if something is really funny my laugh explodes into more of a donkey’s bray than a breathless giggle. In the stands of life, I am the one sitting on the corner bleacher, silently waving my banner and hoping to not be discovered for the halftime speech. I am so used to the shadows I would pale and squirm if subjected to light. When I speak, words slip and filter through my teeth in all the wrong directions. I am not eloquent in speech or stature; the world around me always revolves out of my element.
I am mere. I am mortal. It’s hard to consider myself of any significance when there are so many people surrounding me with infinitely MORE- beauty, brains, charm, faith. I shuffle my shoes when I walk down the street and can’t keep my hands away from anything chocolate. When the opportunity arises to stand for You, I cower and keep quiet. How can I dare to dream to make a difference?
For some strange reason, You have not called me to mediocrity. You have set me apart and fashioned me to fit a role You personally picked out. And because it comes from You in all Your glory and discernment, it’s beyond what the biggest heart could ever hope to hold. You entrust to me Your children, to sweeten them with a smile and listen, really listen, to their words, to cut beneath the surface and hear the struggles in their core. You give Yourself to me in the buttery sun and milky night, to bid me good morning and sweet sleep in the evening. When I am weak, You are strong. When I am fearful, You build up my trust in Your protection. When I cannot bring my gaze to stretch across the mirror, You coax me to set my sight a little higher.
When I look at myself, I see a sloppy girl who has even less control over her life than she does of her hair. I am not fit to work the field for Your harvest.
But Your eyes are clear, Your focus, certain. You see something else. You see my heart embraced by Yours, and that alone is enough to make me magnificent.