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The pinnacle of angelic beauty lifts up his gaze, and stumbles. The hissing serpentine deceiver courts fame, plotting cosmic rebellion. Innocence crashes as forbidden knowledge is sought. Me? There is no doubt: I am a true son of Adam.
Perfectionists strive, forcing reality to their tidy vision. Orators, intoxicated by their power of utterance, sway multitudes. Politicians dream of service, with an eye on the history books. Me? This is all too lofty for me.
Athletes train and pant for the glory of winning. Actors seek that mannerism which will make their role sparkle with reality. Authors write and re-write, crafting words which will connect. Me? I have so many dreams, yet I do so little.
Some believe they have already achieved greatness of a kind. They see themselves as superlative losers – victims. They are the weak; the hurting; the worthless – styling themselves, “life’s failures.” Me? I know something of that path, but by God’s grace I have not walked its darkest stretches.
He does not call us to seek fame, fortune, or this world’s accolades. He teaches us that we are all great sinners – in need of great grace and mercy. Through staggering humility and service, he redeems his own. Me? I rejoice in my profound salvation, so undeserved.
Truly awesome is the One we serve – Father, Son and Spirit. Weight of majesty clothes him, now and forever. He stands alone – the worthy recipient of all of Creation’s praise, adoration and glory. Me? Neither unduly elevated, nor unappreciated, I find my place as my voice adds its notes to his worship.
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