Then I Remember

There are times when I figure something complicated out or write something darn good or make something I think is creative and I feel this swell of pride and think that I’m somebody pretty special…
Then I remember that I didn’t make my brain from scratch, let along do much to develop my mental capacities, and I remember that without my brain that I didn’t make, I can’t do anything.

There are times when I watch my kids and swell with pride at each of them for the uniqueness of each and that they are MY children…
Then I remember I didn’t knit my children together and stitch their organs in or pour their bones into a mold or tie the sinew and muscle together or mix their blood and start their hearts pumping.  All I’m able to offer is a tiny bit of love and assistance, and even those come through me more than from me.

There are times when I put something together with wood or clay or metal, or I fix something that was broken or needed to be improved and I walk away feeling like I’m ingenious and that I’m somebody pretty special…
Then I remember that I did nothing to fashion my fingers or toes or face or torso or any of my organs and without my body and nervous system then I could do nothing.

There are times when I whip up something in the kitchen that is downright good and I think I'm somebody pretty special for combining spices and other ingredients so masterfully...
Then I remember that I did nothing to make these things grow or design the chemistry of their flavor, let alone create the wonder of my taste buds or my digestive system, or even spend a moment concentrating on the absorption of nutrients so that my cells would be fed.

There are times at the end of the day that I consider the many things I’ve marked off my “to do” list and I feel like somebody pretty special
Then I remember that I didn’t stay up the night before constructing everything necessary for the sun to rise and for time to continue so that I would have a stage upon which to do the things I do.

There are times when I look back at my resiliency in the face of hardships and my strength of character when faced with easier choices and I pat myself on the back and give myself an “atta boy!” and I think that I’m somebody special…
Then I realize how much help I’ve had, how many teachers and friends and others who have been there for me through thick and thin without whom I wouldn’t have done anything.

There are times when I’ve led a group of people to some decision or conclusion or insight and afterwards I think I must be somebody pretty special to have done such an amazing feat with such a diverse group of people…
Then I remember that in the midst of the time together it felt more like I was being led, than taking the lead and I realize that without something that cannot be touched, but is known as real nonetheless, then I couldn’t lead a duck to water.

There are times when I see things that I think are rather perceptive of me, things that others overlook, and I think I’m somebody pretty special…
Then I remember that I didn’t create the recipe for eyes, nor did I even cook mine up and install them.

There are times when I feel a deep humility as I stare at the stars or watch the sun set or breathe in deeply the smell of wild grasses or sea spray or laugh with my children…
Then I realize that I AM somebody special, but not for who I am or what I can do, but for Who made me and why.  Then I am filled with gratitude for this and all the many things I am able to see and do and think and the people who have walked a segment of life’s trail with me, because everything is a gift.

I can only speak from my own very limited perspective, but it seems to me that each of us, from the most vulnerable of newborns to the most brilliant and wise of minds, are only able to leave our fingerprints upon whatever we touch whether with our hands or with our thoughts, and even those metaphorical fingerprints, actual or figurative, are given to us.

No wonder Jesus said if we have the faith of a mustard seed then we could move mountains, cause it isn’t really us at all.  It’s the One who made us and the faith of which Jesus speaks is mostly about getting our pride out of the way.

Never forget that you are somebody special, but not for the reasons you may think you are.  Now get back to your mountain-moving.  

© Stephen Carl, 2016