Excuse Me...And You Are...?
Have you ever Googled yourself?
I just did.
I'm not on the first page. Or the second. Or the third.
Yeah. It's taking awhile to get to me.
Lotta people ahead of me with the same name. Doctors, pastors, professionals, an All-American football player, and a few dead guys.
And they're from all over - Illinois, New York, Iowa, South Carolina, Canada...even Scotland.
There's a lotta people out there. And it's easy to feel kinda small. Kinda insignificant.
I remember feeling that way as a freshman at a small college. Of course, "small" is a relative term. It was about 10 times bigger than my high school. 10 times more people and I didn't know anyone.
I remember talking to one of the guys on the dorm floor and noticing a poster in his room. Back then we didn't have memes at the push of a button. We had posters with thumbtacks.
And his poster did nothing for my self-esteem. It was a 3 foot by 2 foot picture of the entire Milky Way galaxy. At the far left edge, almost off the paper, was a small sign with a tiny red arrow pointing at this little-bitty dot of a speck...and the small sign said:
"You are here."
Yeah. Thanks. Not that much help.
So I'm reading this morning in I Kings about Solomon building the Temple and hiring a guy from Tyre by the name of Hiram.
Now this guy must've been impressive, cranking out amazing things in bronze. A true artist.
Verses 41-45 sums up everything he did in the previous 25 verses. The stuff Hiram made just knocked their socks off when the folks walked up to the Temple. Shining, bronzey, and beautiful. Truly amazing works of art.
But earlier, before Hiram shows up and steals the show, there's a description of what was in the Holy of Holies...the reason the Temple was built in the first place...the place where God lived with man.
Standing in the Holy of Holies were two cherubim. They were carved intricately out of olive wood. They stood side by side (if I'm reading this correctly), each one towering 15 feet high, with a wingspan of 15 feet.
The outside tip of their wings touched the opposing wall and the inside tip touched each other's inner wing. And then everything was covered in gold. Pure gold.
Imagine coming into a room where there's 450 square feet of golden angel looking down on you.
And yet there's no mention of the guy or guys who built these incredible things. It just says Solomon had them covered in gold. And that's it.
And these massive angels were blocked from sight by an equally massive curtain that separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the Temple.
Once the Temple was dedicated, no one else in the country got to see them except one guy - the High Priest on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.
No one else. Not even the king. Or the Temple janitor.
I sip my third cup of the Elixir of Knowledge and my mind asks me a question.
And it wants an honest answer.
I hate when it does that.
And the question is: "If I had the skill to do either job, but I could only do one, which one would I chose? The bronze job where everybody admires my skill on public display or the gold job where it's God and an annual visit by one guy. Which one would I take?"
Well, I'd like to say absolutely it would be the Gold job and God. But that wouldn't be totally honest. I might very easily be persuaded to take the Bronze job so I get noticed, get famous, and make the big bucks.
All jobs, if directed by Him and done for Him, are worthy. Even dispensing cups of cool water to the thirsty and feeding ham salad sandwiches to the hungry.
There's something in Proverbs somewhere...yeah, that's it.
"Anyone skilled in their work will not stand before obscure and unimportant people. They will stand before kings."
So whatever He gives me to do, I hafta go for it. Give it my best shot. Whether it's passing out Kool-Aid to Children's Church kids or running a multi-national company.
And I do it whether anyone else ever notices me or not.
But He always notices. And the last time I checked, (and I'm pretty sure thing's haven't changed), He is the King of Kings.
And I can't get noticed any better than that.