God died for me. Say that to yourself a few times. Perhaps highlight each word in your mind...or allow me. God died for me. God died for me. God died for me. God died for me . I struggle to allow other people to get the check at a shared meal. Well, at least let me get the tip. I refuse small gifts all the time, either from some false sense of deprivation or some feeling of not wanting to put the other person to any trouble. Normal gifts; a cup of water, help with a small project, time spent listening to my problems. Normal amounts: nothing life changing like a kidney transplant or buying me a home. Normal people: with apologies to people who want to feel extraordinary every single day, I'm talking about people who are basically just like me. They're not better or worse...just people. Yet I struggle to accept their gifts. So what makes me so readily willing to accept this gift of God? God, not like me in any way. Better in every way. Inconceivably mor...
You don't know me. I'm okay with that. This is my search for insignificance.