O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD ~ Psalm 139:1-4
There is something within us that longs to be recognized. Something that wants others to notice when we walk into the room. We want to be known, to be special, to be significant. We want to matter.
It’s how we were created. We do matter to El Shaddai, the Almighty God. He notes our comings and goings, our sittings and risings, our every breath. He knows us so well that before we even speak, our God knows what we are going to say. To Him, we are so important He not only sent His only Son to die in our stead (while we were still sinners ~ Rom 5:8), He also places a piece of Himself in the heart of every follower ~ the Holy Spirit. We are so significant God the Father marks our every breath, God the Son sacrificed Himself for us, and God the Holy Spirit lives within these dilapidated vessels of flesh.
Yet, we (as flesh) junk it up, don’t we? We fail to revel in the wonder that is the Trinity delighting in us; and we begin, ever so slightly, to desire more earthly outlets. We want people to know our name. We want our deeds to be noted, complimented, and spoken about to others. We want our face to be recognizable, even in select groups. We crave attention from our peers, our superiors, those whom we respect. We start to keep lists (perhaps mentally, perhaps not) of what we’ve done for whom. We notice when someone whom we consider inferior latches onto our goals, makes them their own. We become jealous of others’ attentions and opportunities. And slowly that feeds bitterness, sows discontent and disillusionment with our calling. And we try to manipulate what isn’t ours to control. We use relationships to get what we want; we seek our relationships purely for selfish reasons. We look for ways to get noticed by the powers-that-[seemingly]-be. We push and strive against the dreaded invisibility.
And however noble the cause, whatever good our actions bring about, whatever friendships spring from all of this, our hearts are in the wrong. We are sinning. Granted, God can and will use any situation to bring about His will; however, if we focus on His will instead of our personal celebrity, His name is glorified. And that’s the point, isn’t it?
So I’ll ask, imaginary reader, hoping you realize this inquiry stems from my own internal search: what makes you a celebrity? Is it the people you know or who know you? Is it the shiny, new ministry with which you’re heavily involved? Is it who greets you when you enter a room, who visits your house? Or is it, simply, the Trinity: God the Father as your Master, God the Son as your Savior, and God the Holy Spirit as your constant Counselor?
Because, when all is tested with fire, the only thing that won’t be consumed is the latter. And that’s the point. Not your celebrity, but HIS.