Small

I had this fascinating conversation with two of the science teachers at my school recently. Usually my association and conversations linger around the subject of English, but on this day I was able to listen in on two very smart men passionately share their knowledge about the universe. To be honest, the last time I had a science lesson that I fully understood was probably back in junior high; yet, on this day, I understood the lesson and I was humbled by the knowledge they shared.

"If our Earth was any closer or any further away from the sun, we would not be alive... There is not one single element on another planet, that we have found, which helps produce life or sustain it..." Mr. T spouted off, passionately waving his hand back and forth.

I sat there and took it all in. Numbers. Data. And at that moment in the midst of thinking about our massive galaxy, I felt small; very small and it felt good to feel small. It felt good to be reminded that there has to be something bigger than me out there. To be reminded that there must be a designer behind all the numbers and the data and the vast space. An artist who made something from nothing, just as artists do on canvas every day.

~

I went to the mountains last weekend. A ski trip was on the top of the agenda. As I rode up the ski lift,  I took it all in. The crisp winter air, snow perfectly blanketing the pine trees, the crystals shimmering in the untouched snow. The trees stood strong and the mountains unshaken. Nature was perfect.

After shuffling my awkward body off the chair lift and feeling thankful for not falling, I navigated my way to the edge of the mountain. Vast. The sky and mountains went on for miles and miles; miles that I will never touch, never see, never experience. As I looked out over it all, I was reminded of Mr. T. I remembered feeling small as he spoke about our massive galaxy and again, right there looking out over Earth, I felt small. It felt good to feel small. I think we all long to feel small no matter how much we fight it or how much our ego tells us otherwise. Really in these vast moments we are reminded, even if we barely lean in to it for just a second, that there must be something bigger, stronger out there keeping all this beauty and life together. And we rest in knowing that if it was up to us, life would look a whole lot messier than it does.

I stared a few seconds longer and without thinking, I exhaled a soft, "Only you." Only a designer, bigger, better, stronger, could create all this.


As I sit here writing this on New Year's day, I reflect on those moments and I find myself longing for more moments where I feel small. Where I am reminded that there is a God (a designer) who is bigger, better, stronger and I can rest in knowing that I am small. And perhaps there is my New Year's resolution: to seek out the moments that make me feel small and to lean in to them; not fighting, not allowing my ego to be puffed up, but allowing myself to feel that moment of being small.