Who am I that You should care?

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
    the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
    and the son of man that you care for him?

Ever stopped to think of small you are? In the vastness of this universe we happen to live in? In the midst of billions upon billions of people? You are one person. One person with a vapor of life.

“What is man?”

This question has plagued me for years. I heard this passage again today and it almost choked me again as I decided to dwell on it.

Who am I? Who am I that God would think of me?

In the vastness of His awesome universe where the stars are innumerable and are breathtakingly beautiful?

In the midst of billions of people?

The thought of it makes my head spin. I can’t grasp it. I can’t wrap my head around it.

Why? Why can’t I get that? Or yet, why can’t I accept that? Maybe because I know me and I know I’m not worth to be thought of?

I have two distinct memories where I had to seriously wrestle with this. First was a few years ago at one of my favorite places: Northland Camp on the lake dock, late at night, lying on my back, looking up at unpolluted skies. One night in particular I gazed at the beauty of the stars and the formations they made to declare the glory of God. I couldn’t help but think, “Wow, God. You made this. These praise you continuously. They displayed Your majesty and You can enjoy them forever. You have all of this, so why do You need me? Why do You want me? I failed You constantly. I complain, I doubt, I’m not anything special…..’What is man?'” The thoughts brought me to tears and doubts of God’s love came flooding in. Was it so hard to believe in the midst of so much beauty God would choose me? My wretched little being?

The second was on the top of the World Trade Center just this past summer. If you ever want to feel insignificant, look out on a City of millions, all hustling to and fro. The view stretched for miles and miles, over Jersey, Brooklyn, the Bronx. At night even you see not the light from stars, but light from people’s lives. As I looked out, seeing the intricate streets, the cab lights, the attractions–I thought of the souls. Millions of souls in just this City alone. Who am I? Who am I that God would choose me among them? There are smarter, prettier, more talented, better communicators, more loving, more faithful souls. I don’t deserve to be chosen.

The same overwhelming feeling came over me and the breathe was almost choked out of me.

What is man? Who am I that God would think of me?

I don’t get it. Why me? I get surprised when someone wants to be my friend for more than a week. But an all powerful God who has the massive heavens at His disposable and a host of others He could chose to be His children? I sometimes doubt He made a good decision.

It’s scary. Gut-wrenchingly scary. I know I will never measure up to such Love….I will never feel as though I deserve it.

But grace.

Grace has shown me that I don’t measure up….that I will never deserve it.

Grace has shown me that I’m not the smartest, prettiest, most talented, the best communicator, most loving, most faithful.

Grace has shown me that without grace, I am nothing.

But I have grace. I have the One who gives grace.

Through that grace I come to accept that though I will never feel as though I deserve it, I am loved.

I am loved.

I am loved.

I am loved.

I have to say it over and over it again….perhaps it will stick one day if I keep saying it.

To live loved is to accept the grace. To live loved is let God love me the way He sees fit, even when I don’t get it. Even when I stand on the precipice looking down, or in the dirt looking up.

What is man? Nothing. But God? Everything.


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