In case you’re wondering why my typing is all off and squiggly, I cut my finger last night while I was slicing bread. Like most accidents, it happened quickly and was definitely unintentional, and yes, I know that it was my fault for not paying attention to what I was doing.
Give me a little grace, here.
Accidents happen, all the time, but the major time they don’t happen is when we’re talking about people, as in unplanned, sometimes unwanted, pregnancies. Our last child, Tired of Being Youngest, was a surprise, quite a surprise, I might add, but at no time did we consider her an “accident.”
(Interestingly, all four children have unique birth stories: Eldest Supreme was the One We Welcomed Despite Our Being Poor, Unemployed College Students; College Girl was the One You Say an Extra Thank You for because She Had a True Knot in Her Umbilical Cord and Could Have Pulled it Tight Anytime; and the Son and Heir was Our Great Gift after a Miscarriage — not a “Replacement” as he observed as a prescient seven-year-old.)
Last but Not Least
I, the youngest of five children, was apparently the only planned one — an intriguing piece of information my mother let slip once. The Norwegian Artist, also the youngest child, was the one his mom just Had to Have, even though the three existing were more than enough by conventional standards. (Years later, the Norwegian Artist was the only perfect stem cell match for one of his siblings who had an especially virulent cancer.)
When it comes to people, there are no mistakes, no accidents, no blunders, gaffes, or literal misconceptions. While the time or place may not be right, the parents not ready, the situation bleak indeed, the person in question — this miracle of life that only God can breathe the life into — has a purpose and a place in life, no matter how long or how short that life may be.
Precious in His Sight
I don’t know about you, but I’ve had some days when I wake up and say to God, “What on earth could you possibly use me for? I’m not famous, I’m not rich, I’m not influential, I’m not brilliant, and I’m not particularly skilled at using sharp knives.”
And then, it’s as if He whispers,
“Yes, but you’re mine. I created you, and I love you.”
Ephesians 2:10 tells us that “we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do,” which means that, even if I, or you, don’t feel particularly useful to our Father, we are, because He made us that way.
Psalm 139 is especially beautiful:
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb, I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well . . . All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” (vs. 13-14, 16)
Socks Take a Long Time to Knit
As a knitter, I can assure you that it takes a lot of time and skill to create something out of two little sticks and some yarn, and when you are done, you are proud of, pleased with, and careful of what you have created with your hands. It is precious to you.
And we are precious to Him. No matter what your birth story is — whether you were planned or not, sought after and prayed for or wished that you didn’t exist, one Person always wanted you to be:
The One Who created you.
God has designed you to do good works; good, valuable things; unique, unusual things that only you can do. If you don’t know what they are, don’t worry. Just walk with Him, talk to Him, lean into His love and be secure in knowing that you are the cherished, beloved and treasured Child of the King.
Thank You for joining me at Commonsense Christianity where one of my central messages is that God uses ordinary people. Like me. And you.
It’s something easy to forget in a culture that worships people as idols.
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