Recently someone told me that I was a remarkable woman. Really? Remarkable. That's a nice comment, I think. However, I cannot claim to actually be remarkable. I saw an interesting description online today about how we get where we are in life. A teacher gives everyone a piece of paper, telling them to ball it up. Then he places a trashcan at the front of the classroom. As an illustration, he tells everyone to toss their balls into the can. Those who make it are the elite, those who will be the rich, the talented, the famous. The only rule is that the kids cannot leave their seats. So of course the ones in the back complain about fairness, the ones in the front see nothing but what is in front of them, those who are closer tend to hit the basket more often... you get the picture. So no, I'm not remarkable. But God put me in situations that use the gifts that He gave me, for His glory not mine. It is remarkable to me that He is always there, always ready to help, even after being ignored.
It is hard to feel remarkable when you marvel everyday at God's providence, at how He gives exactly what I need - but only when it is time. I am in the process of replacing important papers right now, namely our birth certificates, which we need to get our passports, which we need to get social security card replacements (any one else hearing echoes of that old song "There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza?). On the way to the bank to get some certified checks, I passed a homeless man. It was a bitterly cold morning, and he was wrapped up, standing at the corner with his sign. And as I drove by, I thought about the fact that a birth certificate will probably not cross his mind in the near future. He is concerned about the next five minutes, about the next meal, the next place to lay his head. He does not have the privileges that I do - the ability to drive off to the bank for checks, to stand in line and wait for a passport, time and a warm place in which to fill out forms. He is not thinking about next year, about summer trips, about planning a Thanksgiving dinner. He lives in the moment, he lives on the edge. And he smiled as I drove by. He is remarkable.
What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done,
and there is nothing new under the sun.
Therefore if anyone is in Christ,
he is a new creation.
The old has passed away;
behold the new has come.
2 Corinthians 5:17