Small Humans, Big Difference

When I was in college at Sewanee I often got stressed out over tests and papers and plays.  Adding the angst of relationships, sorority drama, and the general difficulties of being a young adult, I could get quite overwhelmed.  One of my strategies for dealing with the stress was to walk out to the dairy.  It sat on a hill near a couple of trees, and at that time there were no lights around it at all.  I would stand in the road listening to the snuffling of the horses in the field nearby and stare up at the sky.  So. Many. Stars.  I could see the Milky Way clearly and pick out the stars and planets I had learned to name in my Astronomy class.  I have heard people say that when they look up at the vast expanse of space they feel insignificant and disoriented.  That's what I loved about it.  Feeling insignificant.  I would remind myself that I was one small human on one small world in one small galaxy in the whole universe, and suddenly whatever I was worried about just didn't seem quite as overwhelming.  I would spin around in circles while looking at the stars until I got dizzy and fell down laughing.  It was almost as if the spinning shook up my brain and reorganized it so that worry was no longer at the forefront.  Recognizing my insignificance has always been good for my ego and my compulsive worrying.  I'm just not that important in the scheme of the universe.  And that's okay. 

On the other hand, sometimes we can get to feeling so insignificant and powerless to have any affect on the principalities and powers and systems of the world that we can lose hope and give up trying to make a change.  On those days we may need a sign that even as insignificant as one individual is, our presence on the planet makes ripples that extend far beyond the tiny ponds we inhabit.

Today I sat inside the rotunda of the student union at the prayer station.  At one point I got up to take a picture from across the floor.  The sign and chairs looked so small in the rotunda area.  A little spot of peace and comfort on the edge of a room on the first floor of a building in the middle of a campus.  What difference could it possibly make?  And yet it has.  I get credit for showing up.  But God gets credit for making a difference.  Several new people walked by the station today, read the sign, paused, and then came back to ask for prayers.  Probably 50 people walked by and smiled or waved.  More walked by and read the sign and kept moving, but I could see something clicking inside their brains.  Regulars stopped by to check in and share a hug.  I even got to see the Humans of CNU guy again! 

There are many religious groups on this campus, most of them more extroverted and evangelical than we are.  One of them is called Thrive, started by a young friend of mine named Luke.  He has a vision of unity among Christians.  One of the main purposes of Thrive is to gather all the Christian campus ministries at CNU to worship together once a month.  Hundreds of students attend their events, and they have made a huge impact on the campus.  That's one way.  How I've connected with Thrive is through the prayer station.  Some of their leadership members come and sit and chat with me and ask for prayers.  Although I have been unable to attend a Thrive event so far, I have enjoyed my connection with these bold students who are on fire for the Gospel, and I'm looking forward to their event tomorrow night.  The prayer station is a much quieter expression of the Gospel than Thrive, but it has also had an impact on hundreds of students.  One by one.

How grateful I am for the body of Christ, infinite in its variety, each part with its own gifts, all contributing to the whole.  How grateful I am that we, merely human beings, can make a big difference with small acts.  How grateful I am that even a tiny prayer station can offer something that strengthens, encourages, and uplifts those who stop by.  God loves all God has created, small and large, in incredible diversity, each one of us and all that is around us.  Thanks be to God!