OUR PLACE IN THIS WORLD
Our Cape Town garden stirs with life from dawn until dusk and into the night. The owls keep to high branches, regal and watchful. The smaller birds flit through the branches, shy and retreating. Squirrels dart across the lawn, intent on mischief, while the wild geese who regularly visit our garden parade in noisy procession down the driveway. At night, frogs sing their endless chorus from the fishpond. The critters in our garden go about living their life, co-existing in the beauty of nature. I find much peace and joy in observing them. Yet, none of them seek my applause. In fact, they try their very best to avoid my attention.
Reading my newsfeed, on the other hand, is seldom an uplifting experience. A few minutes in and I have a frown on my forehead. Social media, with the ever intrusive “influencers” vying for my attention is even worse. This morning, before tackling the news of the day, I found some comforting words while reading Psalm 20 and got stuck on this verse. “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.”
Our trust must be rightly placed. Not in the leadership of this world, however strong, however convincing. Nor in technological advancements or human achievements, however dazzling. Nor in our carefully tended reputations or our social standing.
Life is not found in horses and chariots - the ancient symbols of power, speed, and might. Nor is it found in their modern counterparts: the promotions, the possessions, the influencers that fade as quickly as they arrive. These may promise much, but they cannot hold the weight of a soul.
I wonder why we humans hunger for someone to notice us, to validate us, to admire us. Yet admiration, especially from those who do not know us, is a fragile comfort. I believe the soul thrives on something deeper – acceptance, not applause, belonging, not status.
Jesus walked among us in sandals caked in dust. He did not come with horses and chariots. The one who carried no titles and yet held all authority knelt to wash our feet.
May we remember that God is not nearly as interested in our status as we are. The squirrel in our garden does not need an audience to delight in her acrobatics, nor does the owl require approval to dignify his watch. And neither, truly, do we.
Our calling is not to outpace the world in its race for recognition and status. The kingdom of God does not come through the ladders of human achievement. It rises on service, humility, and trust in the One who placed us on this earth to do his will, not ours.
May we think on these things!