| Sunny Side Up Oct 25, 2006 �2006 Kathleen Gibson Expelling the ghost of insignificance Of the many ghosts that haunt our blackest nights, perhaps the specter of insignificance looms most frightening. Its voice slices through our dark. "You're a nothing, a nobody," it leers. Maybe you know that ghost. It glides through the corridors of small minds and big, influential and inconsequential, in rich homes and poor. Its insidious whispers leave us trembling. Insignificance haunts the player on whose life stage the spotlight has dimmed, the curtains closed. The reason doesn't matter: retirement, cutbacks, family grown, position eliminated, illness, a move. "You thought you were somebody, but you were wrong," it says. "You're nothing. Completely dispensable." It also taunts the untried, the novice, the faithful plodder. "You bit player! You'll never matter. Get back in your corner! No one pays attention to you." Samuel Johnson, eighteenth century English writer, agreed, in very fancy language: "No man is much regarded by the rest of the world. He that considers how little he dwells upon the condition of others, will learn how little the attention of others is attracted by himself. While we see multitudes passing before us, of whom perhaps not one appears to deserve our notice or excite our sympathy, we should remember, that we likewise are lost in the same throng, that the eye which happens to glance upon us is turned in a moment on him that follows us, and that the utmost which we can reasonably hope or fear is to fill a vacant hour with prattle, and be forgotten." I wonder what Mr. Johnson would say today, were he to observe the super-beings the media parade before our eyes almost hourly. Perhaps he'd forgive us for feeling insignificant in an era when children found and become CEO's of globally recognized charitable foundations, teenagers become millionaire investors, and 85- year-olds win Pulitzer Prizes. We can't help but take notice. If you've been haunted by insignificance, I don't need to remind you of the entourage of hoodlums that slither in its wake - chief among them jealousy and fear, and those guys wreak havoc on our relationships. The specter of insignificance haunts us most in our prideful times. I know this - I've had some. I sometimes feel terribly important in my wee pond of influence. Surely, no one else could be as able or effective, important, clever, creative or necessary. Could they? Oh, dear. King Solomon knew something about pride - he named it as one of the seven deadly sins - and I'll bet my Bran Flakes insignificance haunted him too. Want to send pride packing? Understand that we, and our abilities (achievements, positions, possessions, etc.) are as fleeting as our backyard grass. Here today, withered tomorrow. Develop and enjoy them as long as God allows, gracefully release them, then go and make a difference in the life of a child, the poor, the lonely, the sick. Want to send insignificance packing? Sing, "Jesus loves me, this I know�" Sing it till you believe it, because no matter who you are, it's true. Now, THAT'S true significance. Respond Home |
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