Journey Into Insignificance
I looked, and I saw a beach that I was walking on. I saw the sand on the beach, and I looked and I saw my life as a single grain of that sand on which I walked. Insignificant. Nothing.
My vision became larger – as if I moved skyward – and I saw the beach in the context of the surrounding area, and it was but a small part of that area. How small, then, my life – my grain of sand.
I moved skyward, I looked down, and there was the nation spread like a map before me. I could no longer see the beach, for even it was now too small. How small my grain of sand. How insignificant.
I moved, I looked down, and I saw the earth as from space. A globe of beauty, but where was the nation? Where was the beach? Where was my grain of sand? I passed the sun, and the earth was now only a spot of light in the distance. Insignificant. Nothing.
I passed the billions of stars that are in our galaxy. Our sun was now long lost to sight. Where now was the beach? Where now was my grain of sand? Insignificance of insignificance.
There are billions of galaxies. I don’t know about billions, but I passed so many that I couldn’t count them. I could no longer see my galaxy. I could no longer see how it mattered.
Where was my sun? Where was my earth? Where was my nation? Where was my beach? Where was my utterly insignificant grain of sand? I stood. I looked. And I knew total insignificance.
Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked around and it was Jesus; he said, “I made all this for you.”