Do you realize that the population of the United States is in the neighborhood of 331,002,000. Wow. That is 4,940 Lucas Oil Stadiums filled to the very top row, or 2,206,680 churches of our size all filled up. And the world population is 7,900,000,000! We can’t even imagine that many people, especially when you look around at our open fields. And yet, there it is, almost 8 billion folks. Here you sit, reading this, surrounded by humanity in unbelievable numbers. You are barely a speck in the sea of civilization.

         I was talking to someone the other night in another state. She described what was going on and she asked me to pray about the situation. “OK, I can do that. Would you like me to put this out on our church’s prayer chain? It is something we do well. I won’t go into specifics, just be general.” There was a moment’s worth of hesitation, and then, no, that’s OK. Your people there have more important things to do. I put people on the chain only if they agree to it. Some folks feel that it is too private a matter. But this woman is in another state. She has no connection to this church. Why would you turn prayer down for a common and normal, if very sad, problem?

         Because we feel insignificant. I am not sure if this lady was actually calling me for prayer or if it was a pretext to talk to someone she could bare her soul too, but she was overwhelmed.

         It is easy to feel insignificant when you are only one of 8 billion people. How can we be important? Sure, the Bible says we are. Every hair is numbered. Jesus died for us. OK, God can pick out the little speck I am, but other people don’t want to be bothered.

         In seminary one of our professors challenged us to a bit of homework. It is easy to crumble in seminary. You go to the school feeling pretty good because God has called you to ministry. And then, you see that there is nothing special about you that sets you apart. Just one of the herd. Most of us were working, going to school, balancing our family life and most serving churches in some fashion. The professor talked about that and then he told us to sit down and write down all our titles. Things like being a son or daughter, a husband or wife, a janitor, a mechanic…anything that people knew you as or, if they are deceased, knew you.

         That was eye opening. I was feeling like I was insignificant. No one would miss me if I died. But, I began to see something. I was a son, a brother, a nephew, a grandchild, a husband, a father, an uncle…..it went on and on. I was a child of God, a brother to Christ, a Youth leader. It was amazing all the things I was to various people.

Now, you might say, “That is just silly!” Maybe it is, but there are a lot of silly things we do. This little exercise will make you think. With all these things we are, we have obligations. But we also have the joy and pleasure that these positions bring. Hey, I am a grandfather! Obligation and joy. I am a pastor! Obligation and joy. I am a steady and dependable friend to some! Obligation and joy. Seven years ago a young man in Ohio committed suicide. I sat down with his parents and I counseled with them. From time to time that Mom calls me. I am under no obligation to her, but she reaches out to me because I can help.

And that is the thing. All of us are important to somebody. Really important. They need us, whether it is for a particular need or because they simply love us. We have great value.

And that is just people. You are vital to your dog or cat. Your dog knows this and loves you intensely. You cat does not know its real need because cats think they are the top of the world, but that little thing does need you. And of course, you are so important to God that He sent His Son to die for you.

You have great worth. When it feels like you are just taking up space, know that you are loved and you are important.

Take a little time and write a list of who you are.