I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the matter of individualism. Two things triggered this introspection, both of which were totally unexpected a few days ago. The first was an impulse to respond to an invitation to nominate someone for a special treat. I’d love the prize, not so much for the honour but for the opportunity to travel to share time with a dearly loved group of people. No more details, sorry, and my nomination is confidential.
The second thing that twigged those thoughts has been a nasty bout of spring allergies. Although I still managed to do my daily walks and bus rides, in between sneezing and running nose, I’ve had to relent and spend far more time laying down than usual. In between snoozes I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. “Hmm,” I’ve found myself repeating to myself, “What really makes a person an individual? What makes me who I am?” I’ve found joy in the realization that my talents are exactly what I need; those that I don’t have, aren’t required for my role in His plan for my life.
Even before we were formed in our mother’s womb, God distributed specific aptitudes and abilities into our lives. (Why have some have been born with disabilities? That I cannot answer but I do believe with all my heart that their lives are as valuable as yours or mine.)
The Gospel of Luke records different groups of people coming to Jesus and asking “What shall we do then?” He gave no stock answer but rather a response to suit the needs of those asking. He still does. God sees and deals with me, according to who I am; and with you, according to who you are.
“For He knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust.” Psalm 103:14
