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by
Anonymous
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March 13 - March 21, 2025
The trouble with you and me and the rest of humanity is not that we lack self-confidence (as we’re told by the world) but that we have far too much self-importance. The thought of being just another of the roughly one hundred billion people to have ever graced this planet offends us—whether we realize it or not. We have such a high opinion of ourselves that to live and die unnoticed seems a grave injustice. Yet for the vast majority of us, has God called us to anything else?
Could it be that God embedded in each of us a desire to be significant, knowing it would be one of the things to draw His elect to Him? Because the truth is, if we really want to feel worth (in the deepest, truest sense of the word), we need look no further than the cross. In Calvary we find that we are the treasure in the greatest pursuit of all time.
Instead of spending our days struggling for significance, living under the shame of failure, and watching what temporary significance we do achieve fade away, Christ offers His significant life to us all. We cannot earn it; we simply receive it by faith. He is our significance.
We are designed to find pleasure and purpose in the roles God has given us—relationally, vocationally, and spiritually. In another word, we find significance in playing a part in God’s great screenplay of the ages. And when we find our significance in Christ, we can be content to play a supporting role or even to stand in as an “extra” in the background. The visibility of our part stops being such a big deal, as the reality of being on the cast at all sinks in.
Living for an audience of One is at the heart of embracing obscurity.
in order to embrace obscurity, we must master the art of serving with humility, as nothing deals a death blow to our pride like selfless service.
This is the great difficulty of service: dying to self. How much easier to hear and obey God’s call to leave all for a tribe in Africa than to let the car to my left have the right of way. Would I feel more comfortable working for an overtly Christian ministry than to stack chairs in the break room of a secular workplace?
I am learning to long for the title given to so many faithful men and women who have gone before me—not those God calls “My successes,” but rather “My servants”: the likes of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Samuel, David, the people of Israel, . . . the Messiah. When God wanted to give someone a real compliment, that’s what He would call them: “My servant.”
Will you still trust God if your “good” is to go on embracing obscurity—living in simplicity and devotion to Him—your entire life? What if your “good” is to understand the deepest depths of suffering so that you have more to give to others who walk through dark times? Would you mind if your “good” is only a greater understanding of the suffering Jesus went through on your behalf and mine? What if your “good” is soley to make His name great?
Embracing obscurity allows us to relinquish our dreams for and to Him—to His timing and His ways. We prefer Him to the dream. We don’t push our dream into being.
You’ll recall from 1 Corinthians 1:26–29 (NLT) that it was no great compliment when God called you.2 That didn’t change when you got a promotion or produced a song. Yes, you can be excited about those things, but your significance to God never was and never will be based on your accomplishments.
One of the greatest ironies of all time is that when we give up the hope of earthly fame and fortune, and instead embrace the obscurity of a life given in service to Christ, we are immediately touched with immortality and are assured eternal glory. Eternal glory.