At the Center of It All

I’ve been wrestling lately with what is very likely a common (if not universal) and basic issue: I want to make a difference in the world. Most people would consider this a healthy, even honorable, ambition. On the surface it’s selfless and giving and good.

What I wrestle with, though, is that I want to make a difference in the world. The reality is that it’s not as selfless as it seems. I want to see the results: to know that I am making an impact, that I can make the world—or at least part of it—a better place. I want to be recognized for my efforts and the good that I’m doing. I want to know that other people see how much I care. I’ve said as long as I’ve been a teacher that if I can make a difference in only one person’s life, it was worth it, but if I’m honest with myself, I wish I could make a much bigger difference than that.

But what if I don’t make any difference at all? Then what? Lately I feel as though I’m a miniscule cloud in a vast sky. Even if I could make some rain, and even if it didn’t evaporate on the way down, what good would those few drops make?

I am learning that my significance doesn’t come from how big a splash I make or how many people see that splash. It comes from the fact that I am a child of God, loved by the Creator of the Universe who has chosen to live inside me and allow me to be a part of his body. That fact alone humbles me; it should be enough.

And it is. Yet it’s not.

When I look at it from the other side, I see several things. God has given me gifts and talents, as he has everyone. And those gifts have several purposes: to edify and help others, and to glorify God. God does want us to use the gifts we have for the benefit of other people—he wants us to make a difference. Over and over again in Scripture we are commanded to take care of one another in so many ways. In the parable of the talents, it is clear that we are not to hide what has been given to us, but rather to use it, to nurture it, to grow it.

God has also given me a calling: I am a teacher. And one way that manifests is that I want to see other people learn and grow. It is natural, isn’t it, that a teacher wants to see the results of his teaching? It would seem to me that God wouldn’t give me this gift and calling, expect me to use it, and never know if it was accomplishing anything. (But then who am I to second-guess God’s purposes?)

I suppose I find at least part of the answer in 1 Corinthians 12. Paul is, of course, talking about the gifts and about how each one of us gets a portion. He also talks about how different portions are given to each of us, and that all the gifts are only a part of the whole:

I want you to think about how all this makes you more significant, not less. A body isn’t just a single part blown up into something huge. It’s all the different-but-similar parts arranged and functioning together. (1 Cor 12:14, MSG)

But there is a danger, too:

But I also want you to think about how this keeps your significance from getting blown up into self-importance. For no matter how significant you are, it is only because of what you are a part of. An enormous eye or a gigantic hand wouldn’t be a body, but a monster. (1 Cor 12:19, MSG)

So my struggle is really rooted in the world’s belief that significance and self-importance are one and the same. I’ve bought into that belief. The only cure is stepping back and reminding myself that I am making a difference—as long as I’m following God, faithfully working out his plan for my life, and doing everything I can to bring glory and honor to his name, not mine.

My significance comes from my relationship with him, not from my effect on the world. Is it possible that he will use me in enormous ways to touch large numbers of people? Of course it is. But that can’t be my goal. My only goal can be to do everything I can with what God has given me, to give him the credit for my successes, and take responsibility for my failures.

The results I must leave in his hands. I may be a tiny cloud, and my rain may not reach the ground. But God can change the winds, bring together enough clouds, and put us in exactly the spot where the rain will do the most good. We may not become a notable storm, or even warrant a mention on the local weather, but if it accomplishes something in God’s plan, then it is significant. And so am I.